Death, Plus One
by jazzyproz
Summary: Three weeks after returning to work following Brennan's kidnapping & recovery, the FBI is handed a case that takes Booth & Brennan out of state. 'Death, Plus One' picks up where 'Can You Save Her Agent Booth' left off. There will be bumps in the road for our fave team; can they manage their working relationship successfully now that they're officially together? RatedM for a reason!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello and welcome to my new story! Thank you so much for taking time to read this. If you haven't already, you may want to read my first multi-chapter fic 'Can You Save Her, Agent Booth' (aka CYSHAB), before you continue reading this story. 'Death, Plus One' picks up where CYSHAB left off. If you're heading off to read it, do so now, before you continue reading… even before you continue reading his A/N, because a spoiler is pending. **** Bye-bye… go! **

**If you don't have it in you to read the 62 chapters in that story, just know that Brennan was kidnapped and tortured, Booth and the team was able to locate and save her. A lot more than that happened, but that's the gist that you might need to know as this story flashes back from time to time. Now Booth and Brennan are engaged…yes, engaged…She who doesn't believe in marriage is now considering it. LOL. **

**OK, so as I said, this picks up after CYSHAB; I try to keep my portrayals in character with those we see on the show, but as a writer, I do take creative liberties on occasion. It's not AU, it's not intended to be OC, nor is it actually in canon with any of the episodes. I may, on occasion, mention a case we saw on the show, but this story is not intended to follow the show, per se. **

**As I did in CYSHAB, I am giving this a rating of M for MATURE. If you're under 18 or do not like Rated M fics, this one is not for you, please turn away. Chapter one doesn't have any Rated M stuff in it, but bear with me… you'll get it! **** Have I ever disappointed you before? (OK, don't answer that… unless the answer is 'NO, jazzy, you've never disappointed!') LOL**

**Disclaimer: Can you believe that after all that hard work I invested in cranking out CYSHAB (along with a handful of shorter works) that I STILL don't own Bones? Nor do I own the characters! It's a hard lesson learned, but I must face the facts…BONES and its characters belong to someone else…not me…I'm just celebrating the deliciousness of their personalities and interactions in this original tale… (Yes, the story is ALL MINE!)**

** And now, I give you: **

**'Death, Plus One'...**

The few K-9 units currently in training were scattered across several acres of the University of Tennessee's Anthropology Research Facility. The trainers were attempting to teach their respective Cadaver Dogs how to detect a decomposing body amidst countless distractions and other scents. The handlers were especially looking forward to being able to work with the animals after an unusually early dusting of snow, which had fallen the night before. December is not usually a 'snowy' month in Knoxville, TN, but the cold front that had pushed down from the North brought with it, low temperatures and precipitation, resulting in a thin powder-like layer of mid-December wet snow. The meteorologists were all 'aflutter' because there is only about a 3% chance of snow during this part of the month, and that weekend they'd set record lows, making it the topic of discussion on every morning program throughout the region.

Beginning at various starting points, canine handlers fanned out across the property with body-count maps and details in-hand, along with tasty little training snacks for their 'students'. The dogs were each at various stages of their training programs, therefore the handlers made sure to keep their trainees far apart from one another to avoid confusing some of the younger, more inexperienced dogs. One particular 'student', a young Australian Shepherd/Chow-Chow mix named Tusker, was still in his early stages of learning and continued to pull his trainer towards an area that, according to her map, Susan was certain would be void of the kind of evidence for which they were searching. Being that this was Tusker's first time at the 'Body Farm' (as was the facility's controversial nickname), and his first time training against _actual_ decomposing corpses, as opposed to the controlled setting in which he'd thus far only been exposed to synthetic laboratory-created scents of decomposition, Susan expected a bit of boundary-pushing from the eleven-month-old dog as he 'tested the waters', so to speak, out in the open. She smirked quickly, when he wasn't looking, realizing that he was doing exactly what she'd expected.

"Tusker, no." Susan corrected her stubborn, yet undeniably loyal companion with a firm voice and serious look. "This way. C'mon, boy." She patted her thigh and gave a quick tug on his lead, indicating to the dog which sector they were supposed to be aiming towards. Reluctantly, but obediently, Tusker followed his handler, gazing up at her for approval as he trotted by her side. "Good boy," she touched his chin and after ensuring that she had his eye contact, pointed towards the trees in front of them, in the direction they were headed, and gave the command for which he was waiting. "Tusker, search!"

The 53-pound dog trotted forward, sniffing while his mouth remained slightly ajar, allowing him to not only _smell_ the air, but _taste_ it on his tongue as well. The combination of Aussie Shepherd and Chow made Tusker a prime candidate for a cadaver dog. His keen sense of smell and innate desire to please Susan, mixed with his durability, focus and stamina gave the handler great expectations for her newest 'student'. She tended to form special bonds with her animals through their training programs, and throughout the years she had successfully taught several dogs who'd gone on to become highly decorated members of various police forces across the nation. She always felt a touch of pride whenever she received word that one of 'her' dogs had performed especially well on the job or 'broke the case' for a team. But until recently, she had specialized in training Search and Rescue Dogs, which are trained to detect _live_ humans using scent markers that are shed as a person travels over land. Her animals have been able to detect specific people through melting snow, over running river beds, in crowded cities and, of course, over miles and miles of open land. Susan was a highly regarded trainer/handler and when she was offered the opportunity to begin training cadaver dogs, she jumped at the chance.

She watched Tusker weaving in and out of the trees, aiming in the general direction of the quadrant in which she expected he'd locate one of the University's decomposing bodies, just below a thin layer of concrete, and she smiled. Susan could tell that he was going straight for the evidence. Without hesitation, the brown and black dog jerked his head in a now-familiar fashion, signaling to Susan that he was on a trail and wanted to be let off his chain. Every dog had a different way of indicating when he or she finally caught the scent; some would pause and exhale sharply before inhaling again to get a complete lung-full; others would yip or make throaty noises, (very few barked when she was in charge of training them. Since she had been training Search and rescue, she discouraged barking because it could tip-off a hiding criminal that they were near). But Tusker had formed his own way of communication early on in his program. He would face the direction of his target, wag his tail once and jerk his head, and Susan quickly learned that was his way of saying "Hey! Lemme go – I smell something!"

She reached for his training collar and removed it from his neck while he waited patiently for the command that told him he could go. Just for the sake of controlling him and testing his patience, Susan waited an extra moment, ensuring that while he was already off the leash, he would not leave her side until permitted. Once she was satisfied with his reaction to her pause, she nodded. "Ok, Tusker, show me!"

The dog bounded into action, aiming straight for the semi-wooded area surrounding a concrete patio, complete with a staged picnic table and chairs set upon it. Tusker smelled along the perimeter of the patio and doubled back at the north corner, where he pawed at the ground impatiently before sitting and waiting for Susan to step beside him.

Ruffling the thick winter fur at his neck, Susan made a fuss over the success of her trainee. "Good job, Tusker! Good boy!" She handed him a training morsel, which he took with gratitude, swallowing it without even chewing, and although he knew he wasn't going to get a second treat, he always looked expectantly at Susan, sending her telepathic messages that said "Ok, that was tasty, but I could _really_ use another…"

She smiled, knowing what the begging look was for, and she simply shook her head while she made notes in her book regarding the length of time it took him to find the location once they'd entered the relevant area. Sensing an air of discontent and restlessness, she looked back down at Tusker and found him standing once again, shifting his weight impatiently from one leg to another while sniffing the air currents as the breeze danced around them.

Assuming he was picking up a scent from another quadrant, Susan replaced his collar for control and led him away from the patio. Against her wishes, the strong canine pulled his chain until it was taut, aiming in the direction from which they'd originally come.

"Tusker, heel!" She commanded the dog and he obeyed, albeit impatiently, and came to stand on her left, waiting for either his next command or for his handler to begin walking. Watching as he continued to sniff the air, Susan felt an odd sensation wash over her body. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she was suddenly chilled in a different way than that which was caused by the cold temperature. It was as if she was picking up on Tusker's unease, which is not completely uncommon for a handler and dog with a well-established communication skill set developed through extensive teamwork, but this early in his development, Susan was surprised to sense his anxiety on such a deep level.

Slowly, Susan began walking in the direction that seemed to be calling to her dog, and while he continued to heel by her side, she could tell it was becoming increasingly more difficult for him to do as he was told. Susan took another look at her paperwork to ensure that there would be no other trainers scheduled in that sector of the property. According to the documentation, the slightly wooded hill before them was fallow, having been used as last season's site for five bodies studied by the resident graduate students.

_Perhaps he's picking up remnant scents of the bodies that were located there last year_, she thought to herself, _although by now, those scents would indicate that the body was no longer on premise. But then again, he's still young…he doesn't know the difference yet_, she reasoned in her own mind that it wouldn't hurt to take him in the direction that seemed to be pulling him. The invisible force that she, as a human, could not sense was apparently incredibly strong for Tusker. Giving him an extended amount of slack in his lead, she got his attention.

"Tusker, halt." He stopped immediately and swung his large head in her direction, looking up to meet her eyes. As she studied his expression, she was reminded of just how many different personalities that dogs, as a species, can display. Just like humans, each dog will demonstrate different characteristics, and will certainly have strengths and weaknesses innately programmed into their temperament. Tusker was, without a doubt, an intelligent animal, capable of understanding hundreds of commands and word combinations as well as hand signals and body language. His dark brown eyes stared intently at her hazel irises as he awaited the all-clear to begin exploring. She smiled, "OK, boy…" she spoke softly, "Tusker, search!" She pointed in the direction of the barren land and trailed behind her pupil as he pulled the leash to its limit.

Tusker's body was tense as he searched. His senses were assaulted from all angles, a distraction which he hadn't faced before in his controlled training environment. Instinctively, he knew he needed to follow _every _lead his nose detected; every scent stimulated his internal drive, telling him to discover and uncover – to help his bipedal counterpart in finding the poor soul that was no longer among the living. Zoning in on the strongest of the odors filling his lungs, he stopped, wagged his tail once and tugged his head, asking for permission from his handler to follow the trail he'd been trained to expose to her.

Still certain that her dog, not much more than a puppy in actuality, was picking up on last year's smells, Susan gave into his silent request. She trusted that if she let him learn the difference between this older saturated scent left behind by a now-missing body and a more recent 'fresh' decomposing body, he would store that little detail away in the back of his growing intelligence for future reference. She stood beside her attentively-waiting trainee and reached for his lead collar, releasing it from around his thick neck.

"Ok, boy…it's lesson time. Tusker, show me!" She said the magic words and nodded her head exaggeratedly as the eager student sprang into action, galloping quickly towards the point that held the strongest scent, as indicated by his sensors. His eyes were focused, his mouth opened only slightly, catching the air through which his trot was cutting. Nearly skidding to a halt, Tusker pawed at the ground anxiously and impatiently circling and sniffing before turning his attention to his teacher as she slowly approached his location.

Ready to reprimand and further train her dog as to a false alarm, Susan squatted down in front of Tusker, meeting him eye-to-eye, a postured position with which he became familiar during the length of his early training. Before speaking, Susan reached down and brushed away the cold, soggy dead leaves that littered the forest floor, revealing a mound of rich, black soil. The Anthropology Research Facility was located alongside the Tennessee River and the repeated desiccation and putrefying of human remains had left the already dark and heavy Tennessee soil beneath even richer. Susan couldn't imagine how many bodies had been in this vicinity since the creation of the research facility back in the 1970's, but she intended to teach her dog the difference between old-smell and new-smell; after all, the specific purpose for _his_ training was to get him prepared to search for the _recently_-dead, not the long-ago-dead-and-moved…

"Now, Tusker," she began evenly. At the sound of his name and her calm tone of voice, the dog listened intently. "Smell," she raised her hand, which was covered in black dirt. Tusker arched his head forward and nudged her palm with his cold nose. "See? Nothing's here." She pointed to the ground from which she'd collected the dirt. "Tusker, smell."

At the command, he lowered his face into the area in question and sniffed rapidly, blowing puffs of air out in between inhalations, subsequently stirring up particles and pollen in the process, all of which told him a story that a human could not begin to understand... Nuzzling through the debris of fallen leaves and twigs just to the right of his muzzle, Tusker pushed aside a mound of wet composted organics, revealing an unmistakable object.

Susan rolled back onto her heels as she remained squatting, watching as her dog uncovered a set of toes poking up through the forest-litter. He paused and looked at her in silent question, one tiny eyebrow cocked higher than the other in response to her surprised gasp.

She stammered momentarily but quickly regained her demeanor, knowing she had to praise the dog for his find, lest he become confused to her reaction. "Good boy, Tusker! Good boy!" She ruffled his neck as he wagged his tail, happily accepting the outreached morsel from her fingers. She stood to her full height and pulled her cell phone from her pocket, calling the professor on duty at the offices beneath the University football stadium, across the river from where they presently stood. Referring to her map once again, she spoke into the phone.

"Yes, Dr. Mills, can you verify that the maps you provided this morning to our K-9 training units are the most recent maps from _this_ season?" She paused as she watched her companion rooting through the wooded-ground nearby. "Okay," she huffed, "well then, we have a situation in Q7… My dog just found a foot where there shouldn't be one…" She listened to the man on the other end. "Yes, I am certain I'm standing in Q7, Dr. Mills…I'm looking at a sign attached to a tree…" Listening to Tusker in the background as she spoke to Mills, she recognized his increased breathing pattern that he uses when he wants her attention but knows he shouldn't bark. Susan turned around and watched as, just a little ways from where she stood, Tusker pawed at the ground again and looked up to meet her gaze.

"Umm… hold on a sec, Mills." She lowered her cell and walked to where the Shepherd-Chow waited. Squatting down once again, she pushed aside a thick layer of brush. Once again raising the phone to her mouth, she spoke. "We just found the other foot…" She praised Tusker's find and awarded him immediately with a morsel while pulling a small flag from her cargo pant pockets, and inserting it into the ground near the foot that Tusker had just located. She turned back to the first foot and did the same, ensuring that the little red flag was visible above the piles of leaves they'd brushed aside.

To say that Dr. Stuart Mills' voice sounded concerned would be the understatement of the century. "Susan, I'm on my way over there. Don't leave that quadrant."

"I won't be leaving anytime soon…Tusker is still searching…"

And hour later, 17 flags were scattered across the quadrant; each one marking a location that Tusker had indicated would contain a decomposing body part. Susan and Dr. Mills had carefully allowed Tusker to search the area completely as they followed closely behind, praising him and rewarding him on the spot when he signaled a find. They avoided disturbing any further locations beyond inserting the flag markers until they could look into the situation deeper. After politely asking the other trainers to call it a day, Dr. Mills and Susan went about ensuring that all of the other 32 bodies on property were accounted for, using Tusker's keen senses to locate them. He then made the unpleasant but necessary calls to campus law enforcement and University administrators advising them of the situation. The University Police then called Knoxville local PD, looping them in on the situation.

The 'Body Farm' was soon a bustle of activity against a backdrop of fluttering red flags as the cold breeze picked up in intensity, compliments of yet _another_ approaching winter-storm, as predicted by the National Weather Service. Despite the fact that the property housed over 30 bodies currently under scientific study, the police took control of the acreage, banning all University employees and students from entering until further investigation was complete. The police chief reached out to the FBI Knoxville Division for assistance, given the fact that the campus was not actually within the limits of Knoxville-city-proper. Chief Simmons knew they could not afford to have anyone who could possibly be affiliated with the University to be an integral part of the examination of the remains that were uncovered by a rookie cadaver dog. The local FBI District Director, Alan Kingsley, wanting to gather the best team the FBI had to offer, in turn called Deputy Director Sam Cullen in DC, requesting assistance from their contracted liaison, the world-renown Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute Medico-Legal Lab. Everyone within FBI management had heard of Dr. Brennan and her FBI partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth. The partners' success rate was among the highest ever recorded, and Kingsley was anxious to get this situation under control. He wanted it done as quickly and _as quietly_ as possible. The University was a huge revenue-generator within the city and bad press always hurt more than just the school.

Sitting in his office in Washington DC, Cullen listened to his colleague's Tennessee drawl, taking notes as they spoke. "Well," Cullen spoke in response to the request. "If you want Dr. Brennan, you'll get Special Agent Booth as well. They're partners."

"We have plenty of agents available to assist Dr. Brennan, Sam, I hate to leave you short-handed up there… We can provide her with everything she needs: extra hands, extra agents…people who already know the area and such… If you can just help me get in touch with her, I would be forever in your debt."

"No, you don't understand…If you want Brennan, you _automatically_ get Booth…They won't work with other partners…And we've found that it's best not to try to make them work with other people…Things tend to get…shall we say…_hairy_…when others are involved." Cullen paused, cautious of how much he should reveal about his best team. "See, Brennan is truly a genius; but she's not too good with people…Booth balances her temperament…Trust me on this – they're the best we have and you _want_ them to be there as a _team_. Besides, I can guarantee that if I were to request _her_ without the _him_, she'd refuse." Cullen glanced at his notes, chuckling when he heard Kingsley's response.

"If Dr. Brennan is under contract with the FBI, she can't refuse a case, Sam. That's the beauty of having contracted employees on the books…experts that can't say no."

Cullen sighed, a hint of humor curling in his voice. "Kingsley, Dr. Brennan can basically do whatever the hell she wants…and she does. Shit, so does Booth for that matter... The rumors are true that she _blackmailed_ Booth until he agreed to take her into the field with him as his partner… Blackmailing a federal agent is no laughing matter, but we weren't about to press charges. Take my word for it; you'll be satisfied with their results. If nothing else, these two are the most intense, focused team I've ever worked with. They work until they find the truth - always. And I'm fine with sharing them with you, don't worry about us being short-handed." Cullen took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "There's something else you need to know about them." He waited until he knew Kingsley was listening. "They are...in a personal relationship with each other."

"Sam… What kind of field office are you running up there? Partners can't be involved with each other!" Kingsley's rebuttal made Cullen smile.

"These two can…They received special permission from Shawn Williams _and_ from the President, allowing them to remain partners while being involved with one another. I assure you, they will not display inapproriate behavior when they're working. But out of professional courtesy, I had to let you know because I don't want you to be blindsides if you see them off-duty or anything… or if _your_ agents see them together, I thought you should be aware."

Kingsley sighed, wondering if he made a mistake pulling the legendary duo into his case, but knew he needed the best. "OK, do you think, I dunno…Do you think they can just try 'n behave themselves while they're here? The last thing I need in an influx of requests from _my_ agents looking to enter into intrapersonal relationships with their partners…"

"I will pass along your request, Kingsley. Let me make the call to Booth and have him begin the travel arrangements. I'll be back in touch with you later today with the details of their arrival and such." After closing pleasantries, Cullen hung up his phone and called down to Booth's office.

"It's _about_ time; what the hell is taking you so long?" Booth's frustrated voice greeted the intercom call.

"_Excuse_ _me_? Is there a problem, Booth?" Sam Cullen recognized his top agent's tone of voice and knew, first of all, he was waiting on a call from someone else, probably Charlie. Cullen also knew that one of two things was going on in Booth's life: either he hit a brick wall in the current case he was working, causing him excessive stress _or_ he and his partner had an arguement that morning. Instinctively, Cullen was going with the latter possibility. Even when Booth and Brennan were just partners, without the added complications of a romantic relationship, the two of them went head-to-head quite often, usually resulting in a cranky Special Agent Booth, and as he'd been told by Jeffersonian colleagues, an _even_ _crankier_ Dr. Temperance Brennan…

"Oh, uh…. Sorry, Sir. I was expecting Charlie to be calling from down in Retention. He's looking for something for me…" Booth paused, waiting for the Deputy Director to address his reasons for calling. He didn't have to wait long.

"Booth, I need you to report to my office immediately; you have a case. It's taking precedence over anything that you're currently working." Cullen knew that Booth was researching a couple of cold cases, as he hadn't taken on any new investigations since returning to work full-time, just three weeks prior. "So, whatever you're workin' on will have to wait. Don't keep me waiting, Booth; I have a lot on my plate right now." Cullen disconnected the call, and awaited the momentary arrival of one of his favorite employees. Despite the headaches that Booth and his partner had caused Cullen over their years of service, Cullen couldn't deny that he cared for the team on a personal level, and he hoped that whatever caused Booth's sour mood that day would be smoothed over by the time the pair took flight for Tennessee.

**Postscript A/N **

**OK, so, what do you think? Wanna see the first case that B&B are assigned to, now that they're back to work full time? Their first case together now that they're '**_**together'**_**?! **

**Are you interested in this little tale? **

**Please drop me a note by leaving a review. As you all probably remember… I LOVE REVIEWS… and so does MY MUSE! **

**Ok, so do you see the little cover picture attached to this story? Meet Tusker… Isn't he a beautiful dog? **

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story, I really do appreciate it. Writers here on FF write for the pure love of sharing thoughts and ideas, and for the joy it brings to take our favorite characters into places the TV show can't possibly go. Please share your love of FF by telling your like-minded friends about the writers you like and the stories you follow. The biggest compliment an author can receive is a note from someone saying "Hey, so-n-so told me about your story, so I'm reading it." So please, spread the word to those who don't know that Fan Fiction exists! **

**Peace & love, my friends!**

**~jazzyproz **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Welcome back to 'Death, Plus One', it's great to have you back! Thank you all for such a warm reception to this new tale; I hope to live up to your expectations. **

**Just a reminder: I do not write in canon with the show. The reason I'm reminding you of this is because I know that on the television show that we all know and love, B&B visited a fictional body farm a few episodes following his break-up with Hannah. That said, as you know, in keeping in sync with CYSHAB, they haven't been back to work on a case since Brennan's abduction. However, they will be referencing their visit to the show-created Hogansburg Body Farm in this chapter as well as later chapters.**

**I was asked how often I plan to update this story. I am not sure I can answer that precisely. I will update as often as possible, just as I do with all my other stories. I did my best with CYSHAB, and averaged posting chapters about every 6 days. Keep in mind that was the **_**average**_** – sometimes more time lapsed and occasionally you got 2 chapters in a day! So I will do everything in my power to not leave you hanging for too long. **

**I was also asked if I plan on this being as long as CYSH. I don't plan on it being 62 chapters, no. But it will definitely be longer than 10 chapters…this I can guarantee. **

**Yes, I plan to continue with 'Letter from Maluku,' but right now this story is in the forefront of my mind. I will certainly continue with Letters, (especially as most of the actual letters are already written) but there's only so much I can write in a given week... **

**Many of you asked about Tusker. ****Yes, Tusker is really my dog. He is a 97-pound Aussie Shep/Chow who thinks he's a lap dog… He's a great watchdog and loyal companion. We rescued him from likely death when he was dumped out in the middle of the Green Swamp area of Central Florida when he was about 10 weeks old. If we hadn't found him, he could have very easily fallen victim to either malnutrition and starvation, or to the jaw of one of the many gators who call the swamp home. When I was researching cadaver dogs, I learned that both breeds were popular for such a task, among many others, of course. But as I sat with my journal, wracking my brain about which of the many breeds to choose, and what to name my canine character, Tusker brought me his little stuffed monkey (his favorite toy) and it hit me. 'Hello! I've got all I need right here!' As I discuss Tusker in the future, I will be pulling from my own experiences of his formal training mixed with research I've done regarding cadaver dogs. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, nor do I own rights to UT's Forensic Anthropology Facility. But, as you know, I love creating another world in which these delicious characters can run around and the unique setting of the Body Farm was just too irresistible. **

**And with that, I hope you enjoy chapter two. We will not start traveling in this chapter, but that will likely happy in the next one. **

Brennan pulled into her long-vacant parking space, aggressively throwing her car into park and proceeded to sit in silence for a little while.

_Dammit! He can be so frustrating...! _

She slapped her steering wheel with an open palm and cringed at the sting. _Dammit_…. Sighing in resignation, she swung open her door and made her way towards the elevator that would take her up to the lab from the parking garage.

B/B/B/B

From where she sat at her desk, Angela could hear the distinct clickety-click of her best friend's boots as Brennan made her way from the entrance, quickly crossing the open lab floor heading towards her office. The unmistakable cadence in Brennan's steps echoed through the cavernous space and told Angela a story that only a best friend could understand… Silently, the artist watched her friend's determined march, knowing instantly that something was wrong.

"Oh, _Happy Monday_," Angela mumbled under her breath. Slowly pushing back from her work surface, she stood, carefully regarding the hasty way her long-time friend unlocked her office. Ange picked up a folder from her desk, an excuse to approach Brennan, really, and started to make her way over to her friend's area, as nonchalantly as possible, hoping to get to get to the root of the anthropologist's anger…_And_ hoping that she wouldn't be on the receiving end of any eruptions brought on by said-anger…

B/B/B/B

Booth hung up after speaking with his boss and sighed. He made a quick call down to Retention and asked the receptionist to pass the message on to Charlie that Booth no longer needed the files he was questing to find, and that Booth could be found in Cullen's office if they needed him.

Riding in the quiet elevator up to Cullen's floor, Booth thought about his morning, and wondered again what the hell was going on with his partner…And her attitude.

Booth had been concerned for his partner's mental well-being for a while. They'd still been spending their personal time at his apartment, because she still wasn't emotionally ready to sleep at her place yet. They had spent many days over there, doing chores and hanging out, testing the waters, so to speak, and trying to increase Brennan's comfort level of being there. In fact, over the past weekend, they had actually planned to stay in her apartment; the partners were both exhausted from a day of re-painting her office walls and scrubbing then waxing the hardwood floors. But Saturday evening, just as with every other time they'd been there when night approached, she began showing signs of anxiety and stress, and Booth made the decision that they would be spending the night at his place again. He knew that eventually he would have to push her to face that fear – to overcome the distress she felt at the mere thought of sleeping in the very bed from which she'd been abducted. But still, he couldn't bring himself to make her stay there yet, so they made the trip back to his much smaller apartment.

Not that he minded at all. Quite the contrary, in fact...he _loved_ having her stay with him. Upon deciding to live together, the partners had agreed to share time between their apartments. But Booth had vowed not to push for them to stay at her place until he was certain that Brennan would be able to sleep through the night without being stricken by panic attacks or plagued by more intense versions the very same nightmares she was still working to suppress. But Booth knew that his partner was growing frustrated with herself and her inability to compartmentalize as she used to do. The Agent could feel the tension growing as more and more time passed since her kidnapping.

Everything had been fine for the first few weeks following the closure of Brennan's torturous kidnapping case and their subsequent engagement. But she had still been out of work, not yet strong enough to perform her duties full time (much to her own dismay), so Booth'd stayed home with her, not really ready to leave her alone. Since he hadn't used much vacation time during his years with the bureau, Cullen let him take the time he felt was necessary without argument.

During that time, they drove up to the Jersey shore for a few days and rented a secluded beach house in Cape May. Although it was far too cold to swim by late October, the weather was decent enough that they were able to enjoy cool, breezy walks on the beach during the days, while snuggling by a blazing fire in the evenings. The evenings spent in front of that hearth quickly became some of their favorite memories ever.

Before a roaring fire, the partners shared secrets and confessed fears like only lovers could. The pair made out like teenagers, forgetting about the outside world as they got lost within their own private paradise. They made lazy love atop blankets and pillows scattered across the floor, falling asleep in each other's arms until one of them woke the other insisting they crawl into bed for the remainder of the night, lest someone's back (namely Booth's) was aggravated by the sleeping arrangement on the floor. Not having a schedule or itinerary was perhaps the best part; they could wake up when they wanted, eat when they wanted, make love when they wanted, and everything else simply blended into the background.

When they returned home from their mini-vacation, Brennan went back to work part time, and Booth agreed to schedule his days around hers, so she wouldn't be alone at the end of her days. She had insisted that it was not necessary for him to take any more time off from work, that she was capable of staying home by herself ('home' being his apartment, of course). But Booth countered her stance with his own logic, claiming that with the amount of hours they'd put in over the years, he deserved to be able to spend time with her now that they were together.

The fact of the matter was that Booth was still uncomfortable leaving her to her solitude...

For as brave a face that Brennan put on front of their friends and co-workers, Booth still coaxed her back to sleep many nights following nightmares, he still caught her absently rubbing her wrists where she'd been bound and tied to the wall, he saw the way she cautiously watched people as they moved past them on the street or in a restaurant or in the park… Booth knew that Temperance Brennan was working hard to hide her fears and compartmentalize, but he could tell she was struggling. On top of all that, he innately knew that he would catch the brunt of her anger and frustrations whenever she became overwhelmed, now that they were officially together. He never fooled himself into thinking that they would be able to cohabitate without running into their share of ups and downs…The partners were each very determined, stubborn and passionate people; and while these are not bad traits to have, when combined, there was always a chance of the two of them coming to blows…

Booth didn't think Brennan was regretting their time shared as such, but she was definitely getting aggravated with her inability to function completely on her own; and she was, he suspected, getting pissed off at him for coddling her. He tried to back off somewhat, leaving her to do things the way she wanted to at home, giving her plenty of quiet time and space to work on her book… but he'd yet to let her drive herself to the lab, he continued to schedule his days around hers, and their weekends were always spent together – sometimes with friends, sometimes with Parker, sometimes just themselves – but _never_ apart.

He insisted on dropping Brennan off at the lab every morning and picking her up every evening, despite the fact that her car was now parked at his apartment building, and Booth knew she was perfectly capable of driving on her own. His logic, however flawed it may have been, was that if he drove her, he'd _have_ to pick her up at the end of the day and that would ensure she didn't overwork herself by staying in Limbo until the wee hours of morning.

However, as he thought about her actions on that morning, he realized that there was something amiss. He'd been waiting for the metaphorical ball to drop, and it seemed that today was the day…

B/B/B/B

Booth woke that morning to a set of cold sheets next to him, where the snuggly body of his partner should have been. He rolled over, fighting the urge to moan in retaliation of his complaining vertebrae. _Yeah, you weren't complaining last night when she was riding hard, were you?_ He mumbled to himself as he sat upright at the edge of the mattress, swinging his feet down onto the cold floor beneath. _I hate winter_, he thought. _Love the way it looks when it snows, but hate the way the temperature makes my body ache…_

He padded to the bathroom, relieved himself and brushed his teeth before going in search of his girl, wondering why she was up so early. And curious about why she didn't wake him, the way she normally did when she couldn't sleep. He found her sitting on the lounge chair typing like crazy on her laptop.

"Mornin', Baby," Booth greeted her as he walked into the living room, "you're up early. Everything OK?"

She raised her blues up and smiled slightly, "Mm-hmm," she simply nodded and refocused on her computer.

Booth noticed that his girl's smile didn't reach her eyes, it was forced. He knew that look, and it was one he hadn't seen for quite a while. The agent crossed the room and bent over to kiss her in greeting, but she kept typing, simply leaning her cheek in his direction. Unsure exactly what he'd done to piss her off, he decided to tread lightly, and pressed his lips to her cheek in a gentle kiss. "I missed you," he whispered as he pulled back, "what time did you wake up?" He glanced at the clock on his cable box, noting that it was only 5:35 am.

"I couldn't sleep," she stated quietly, still not moving her eyes from her work. "I saw no sense in lying in bed awake when I could get up and get some work done."

Booth squatted and leaned against the soft arm of the lounge chair. "Did you have a nightmare?" Not that he hoped she had a nightmare, but he hoped that might be the explanation for the unusually cold reception he was receiving that morning.

She shook her head gently, dropping her eyes to her hands as they ceased typing momentarily. "No, I just couldn't sleep. I have a lot of work that I'm behind in completing, so I got up and started working through my emails; that will make one less task I have to complete when I get to the lab."

Seeing that she was not going to meet his gaze, Booth chewed the inside of his bottom lip and simply reached his hand to her loose curls as they rested on her t-shirt covered shoulder. "OK," he whispered, "as long as you're alright…"

"I'm fine," her voice said, but her flat tone said more… "Just trying to get ahead…" she mumbled as she resumed typing.

"I'll leave you alone then, Bones," he pushed himself up from his squatting position, dropping another kiss against her forehead, just at her hairline. "I'm going to take a shower."

Brennan's acknowledgement to his statement was a barely discernible nod as she absently focused on her inbox. As he crossed the room, heading back towards the hallway, she let out a shaky breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

_God_, she thought, _how do I do this? How do I broach this topic with him? How do I do it without hurting him?_ She let her head fall back against the leather headrest. Truth be told, she was exhausted…But her sheer need to get control over her ever-growing pile of work overrode her need to sleep, driving her to slip from the covers (and from the comfortable embrace of her Special Agent) well before their alarm broke their slumber. And she supposed that their impending discussion disturbed her sleep even more than her need to work. More than anything, she hated the idea of bringing pain to the only man who had ever loved her completely and seemingly unconditionally. Knowing she had a good twenty minutes before her partner would once again emerge from the back room, Brennan let her eyes close for just a few moments, permitting for a very short respite before facing the inevitable.

B/B/B/B

They were sitting in silence at the table eating breakfast when Booth finally had to address the undeniable air of tension emanating from his fiancée. Raising his dark eyes from his bowl of cereal, he watched Brennan picking at her oatmeal, but not eating it.

"What's the matter, Bones?" He kept his voice gentle, still not sure if he did something to piss her off or if she was just having a quiet day.

Brennan hesitated before raising her gaze to meet his deep brown eyes. "I'm going to lunch with Angela this afternoon," she paused cautiously before she continued, noticing that he nodded calmly in understanding of her lunch plans. "And….I've decided to drive myself to work today, Booth." She spoke confidently and coolly, leaving no room for argument.

Booth nodded again, slower in his movements this time, and took another spoonful of cereal, focusing on the bowl in front of him for a moment. "OK," he responded evenly, "you working late tonight?"

"I haven't decided yet …I have a lot of work to catch up on. And I'm not getting it done by leaving between 5:30 and 6:00 every afternoon." She squared her shoulders and placed her spoon down beside her bowl, as if preparing for an argument. "Maybe that schedule works for you, but it's not working for me, Booth."

He raised his eyes to meet her cool blues, "I've never tried to rush you to leave just 'cause I'm at the lab… I tell you to take your time every day, Bones." He tried to remain calm and not take offense to her tone as he sipped his coffee.

"Booth…" Brennan pursed her lips in frustration, "I'm not an invalid… I am perfectly capable of getting to work on my own." She watched as he dropped his eyes and clenched his jaw in response to what she was saying, and she continued quickly. "I mean, you've been great in helping me since my…you know…_abduction_," she stumbled over her words, but trudged on anyway. "And it's not that I don't appreciate it. But…I need to be able to function without feeling like you're hovering over me…day in and day out, Booth…." She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at the ceiling, since he was refusing to meet her eyes. With another sigh, she looked back at the top of his head, as he continued to stare into his cereal bowl while he listened. "Just because I agreed to our engagement doesn't mean that I agree with you babysitting me all the time, dictating my every move…. I need my space, Booth! And I'm not getting it. You drive me to and from work every day; you come pick me up for lunch every day; you're controlling me just like…like a _babysitter_."

At that comment, he raised just his eyes and looked at her from beneath his now-creased eyebrows. "I'm not babysitting you, Bones, and you _know_ it. I've been trying to keep you from working yourself into a frenzy; you're not strong enough to put in the kind of hours you want… I know how you tend to work yourself into near exhaustion, burying yourself in case after case of unidentified bodies while your own body fights to get back to normal… I've only been trying to help by getting you home at a decent hour and making sure you're eating right..." It took a lot of energy for Booth to control his temper at her accusation that he was trying to control her. Although he had recently been trying to mentally brace himself for this moment, for this very discussion, it didn't make it any easier to hear the words come out of her mouth.

"I'm an adult, Booth. I know how to take care of myself…" She raised her chin defiantly, though even _she_ could hear the irony _and callousness_ in her words; it was _because_ of Booth that she was healthy enough to put up this argument. Without him, she didn't want to think of where she'd be... But in the recent weeks, she'd been feeling like she was suffocating and knew she had to get it all out in the open so her anger didn't fester into something worse.

Afraid of saying something he'd regret, Booth pushed himself up from the table roughly, grabbing his cereal bowl in the process to take it to the kitchen.

Brennan watched his back as he retreated from the dining area and could see the immediate tension she'd inflicted into his stature…She regretted hurting him, but didn't know how else to address her feelings. "Booth-"

"No; it's fine, Bones," he cut her off; his words said one thing, but like hers did for him earlier that morning, his tone of voice and curtness told a different story to her. "Do what you want." He fisted his travel mug and filled it with coffee before turning from the kitchen and walking through the dining room without another word. He wanted to say something else…he _wanted_ to tell her that he was expecting this; he _wanted_ to tell her that he understood her need to be independent; he _wanted_ to tell her that it didn't hurt his feelings to hear the words that she just spoke. But he _couldn't_ say any of it… because the fact of the matter was that while he _did_ understand her need to be independent again…and he _got_ what she was saying, even if she said it harshly…it simply didn't make the words any easier to digest. He was not ready to be shut out of her life again, and he felt like that's where she was heading…

While she was recovering, she accepted his help with very little argument once they'd established their mutual feelings and set a few guidelines. When she went back to work part time, she was fine with him keeping the same schedule. And for the past three weeks, since she'd been back to full time hours, things had been progressing pretty smoothly, with only a few hiccups tossed in while they worked out their differences. But her demeanor that morning – the way she dismissed him – was almost too reminiscent of how things were before they were 'together.' In fact, it reminded him of the cool reception he received from Brennan whenever he entered the room while he was still with Hannah. His Bones hadn't been this aloof with him for months and months…and Booth wasn't sure how to handle it.

So, he did what he needed to do. "Bones, I'm heading out. I have a meeting with Charlie this morning, and since you're driving yourself, I can get there early to prepare for it." He paused and kissed her on the top of her head, as she still sat at the table. He refused to leave without at least a show of affection, because he loved her, even if she pissed him off. He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut, "let me know later if you're gonna be home for dinner or not. Have a good day."

Brennan sat in stunned silence as she watched him whisk around the room, pulling his suit jacket on over his shoulder holster, then his trench coat over those layers, finally grabbing his travel mug in one hand and his briefcase in the other. And she couldn't remember the last time he did nothing more than kiss her head… _I've gone about this the wrong way_, she realized. _I've made him angry, now_. Brennan sucked her lower lip between her teeth in thought as she stood, slowly pushing her chair backwards.

"Booth," she spoke softly as he reached for the doorknob to leave, "I think I've said something wrong…"

"No, Bones," Booth looked at the wood grain of the door with feigned interest, "I think you've said what you needed to say." He moved his hurt gaze to meet her eyes only briefly. "See ya later; drive careful." He nodded once and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway and clicking the door closed before taking in a deep breath, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe while he was in the same room as his partner.

_It was only a matter of time,_ he lectured himself, _before she wanted to be on her own again. But hell, she hasn't even been able to spend the night at her place yet…She can't possibly think she's 100% back to normal…_ Booth took the stairs rather than the elevator, hoping to calm his nerves with the little bit of exercise provided by the two flights. _It's not like I expected her to let me drive her everywhere for the rest of our lives… Of course she's going to need her space…But what's next? Is she going to move back home? Are we going to live apart despite what we've talked about? How much space does she want? Am I overreacting, here? _ Booth squinted against the bright morning light as he emerged from the darkened stairwell.

_What if something happens to her? What if she gets tired on her way home, after pushing herself too hard? What if she's not quite as ready as she thinks she is? What if __**I'm**__ not ready for her to be on her own again… That's what it all comes down to… I'm not ready to be pushed aside…_ He jogged across the street to where he'd been parking since bringing her car over to his place a couple weeks before and parking it in his normal spot, closer to the front of the building. They'd used her car for a couple of day trips, not wanting it to sit parked and unused for too long, and he preferred to park it closer to the building for security reasons, leaving him to park his FBI-issued SUV in whatever parallel space he could find at night when they came home.

Throwing himself into the driver's seat, he let his head fall back against the headrest in sudden emotional exhaustion. Exhaling sharply, he tried to slow his erratic pulse, telling himself that he was indeed overreacting, but still he wasn't able to stop the flooding apprehension from overriding every other thought in his brain. Turning on the ignition, Booth sat in his space a little longer, eyes closed while he gripped the cool leather-covered steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go back up to the apartment and apologize for leaving in such a rush.

Approximately fifteen minutes after Booth made his uncomfortably swift exit from the apartment, Brennan emerged from the front of the building and walked towards her BMW, unlocking it remotely as she approached. _I need to talk to Ange, _she pondered_, I am going to need her advice on how to fix what I just broke…I didn't mean for him to get upset, but I think I understand…I said the words a little more severely than I originally intended_… She paused as she pulled the driver's door open, and turned to where she knew Booth had parked after going out and picking up dinner the night before. She was surprised to see the shiny black SUV still parked in the same spot, and as she looked closer, she could see her partner sitting inside, with his head back against the head rest and it appeared that his eyes were closed. _I thought he was leaving to prepare for his meeting with Charlie_… she crinkled her forehead as she slammed her door closed, preparing to walk across the street to talk to him. _Why would he lie to me? _She paused in her tracks, realizing that _she was_ the reason he felt the need to lie…_ He needed to get away from me…_ She had hurt him that morning, and apparently hurt him enough that he preferred to sit in the quiet of his SUV rather than sit with her in the apartment for a little while before heading into work.

As if he could sense her energy from across the street, Booth raised his head from the seat and opened his eyes, immediately honing in on her position near her car, facing him. He could see the regret in her eyes, even across the distance between them and he reached forward, turned off the engine and opened his door. Checking for traffic, he trotted across to where she stood. He recognized her uncertainty as she backed away from his approach, so her butt was pressed against the cool metal of her sports car. From several feet away, he could tell she was fighting off tears of misunderstanding, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.

Without word or warning, Booth stalked straight up to his partner and grabbed her waist, pulling her against his chest in a strong and forceful embrace. His mouth descended upon hers immediately, covering it completely while demanding entrance. She didn't deny him their first real kiss of the day, opening to his seeking tongue and moaning when she tasted him. He tasted like sugary cereal and coffee and _Booth_… She grabbed his biceps tightly, digging her wiry fingers into his arms through his multiple layers of clothing.

When he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, she started to speak, "Boo-"

He kissed her again; this time it was less demanding, but no less possessive as he tightened his hands on her hips.

Once again breaking the kiss in the need of oxygen, he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth as she tried again. "I just-"

Silencing her a second time, he sucked her bottom lip between his before commencing to pillage her mouth one more time. When he pulled back this time, he let his lips linger against her mouth. "You're reading me correctly; I _am_ angry, Bones…" His dark eyes found hers and in the depths of her oceans, he saw concern and regret. "But we'll talk tonight…Try not to be too late." He pressed a closed-mouth kiss against her bee-stung lips when she nodded in agreement. "I'm angry, but I love you, Bones… Don't forget that."

Not wanting to be silenced a third time, she simply met his intense glare with wide eyes and shook her head gently, finally whispering, "I won't." She gave his arms in tight squeeze before releasing them as he started to pull away.

"I gotta go. Be careful." He turned and jogged back to his truck and drove away with only a nod in her direction. He felt a little better after kissing her and reminding her that he loved her, but he was still anxious about just how much space she had recently decided she needed… but he would have to wait until tonight to find out.

As Brennan opened her car door and slid into her cool seat, she felt slightly dazed.

_He gave me the metaphorical cold shoulder as soon as I started talking upstairs_, she thought. _He knows I have trouble vocalizing my feelings, why would this situation be any different? He should expect this from me_… She pressed her lips together in a thin line, growing aggravated. _Then he walked out in the middle of our discussion… Only to sit in his truck and wait for me to leave. And why? Because he wanted to plunder my mouth…He could have done that upstairs, but instead I got a cold peck on top of my head. Dammit! Why does he have to be so infuriating? And **why** does he have to be such an amazing fucking kisser!?_ Brennan was mad with herself as much as she was with Booth. If she hadn't been to easily sidetracked by his lips…his taste…his strong hands… If he hadn't distracted her, she would have told him off. _Yes_, she thought, _I should have accused him of being a stubborn, pig-headed alpha-male…and I should have yelled at him about sitting down here waiting for me to leave just so he could take what he wanted… Dammit! If only he wasn't so friggin' sexy when he's pissed_….

Refocusing, she slipped her car into the light traffic flow, a little apprehensive at driving on her own for the first time in months, and headed towards the Jeffersonian, torn between being pissed at her partner for his arrogance and being turned on by his sheer power over her.

B/B/B/B

As Booth sat in his boss's office, listening to the details of the case for which he and his partner were requested to assist, he dreaded, ever so slightly, the fact that he knew his partner was going to _love_ their destination. It's not that he didn't like Brennan to be happy – quite the contrary, he always wanted her to be happy. But he remembered a visit to another 'body farm' in upstate New York not too long ago, and he remembered how giddy she was at the opportunity to observe an exploding abdomen… Booth knew she would have some scientific explanation about what exactly was occurring inside that body to cause the eruption, and she would reprimand him for speaking of it in such a vernacular, but in his mind, he didn't care. _That body exploded…and almost splattered guts on my good suit_…

Dismissed with his orders, Booth left the Hoover and headed towards the Jeffersonian, wondering what kind of reception he is going to have from his partner.

_The good part_, he thought, _is that we've got a case – we'll be back to work and doing what we do best_.

**Postscript A/N**

**So, now we know what B&B fought about, and it all comes back down to Brennan's damn independence and Booth's stubborn streak. Hopefully they can talk it out **_**before**_** travelling, because it SUCKS to travel when you're arguing with your partner…**

**Please review and let me know you're out there! Thank you for taking time from your busy day to read my little tale. **

**Peace & love my friends, **

**~jazzyproz **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Welcome back! Thank you for coming back to read Chapter 3! I hope you enjoy it!**

**I have no real words of wisdom for this A/N, so I'll le t you just get on with it. :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own anything good…. Just this story line! **

"Knock-knock," Angela spoke cautiously as she approached Brennan's office, hearing her friend inside opening and slamming closed the drawers to her desk…

Brennan stood upright and stared at the artist. "Good morning, Angela," her reply was flat. "Did you want something? Because if you're only here to talk, I'm not in the mood. I have work to do."

Angela smirked a little at her petulant colleague. "Wow…" Ange sauntered into the office, "_Someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning…."

With a huff of aggravation, Brennan folded her arms across her chest, "Angela, I woke up on the same side of the bed that I always wake up on!" She dropped her arms back down to her side impatiently, "Now, is there a point to your visit or are you just trying to be in the way?"

"Relax, Sweetie…I wanted to make sure you were alright-"

Brennan cut her off mid-sentence, "What do you mean '_if I'm alright'_? Did Booth call you? What did he say!?" Her brow was wrinkled and her jaw clenched as her mind imagined a scenario that never happened, thinking that Booth had called Angela and asked her to intervene.

With her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline, Angela stared in dumbstruck silence until she was brought out of her daze by Brennan's subsequent sigh as she continued to search in her drawers for something apparently lost.

"_What_!? No, Bren, Booth did _not_ call me. Why, should he have called me? Am I missing something?" Angela parked herself in the chair opposite her friend's desk and folded her arms as she watched the anthropologist rifling through file after file.

With an occasional glance up at her long-time friend, Brennan did her best to ignore the artist's questions and busied herself looking for a non-existent lost file, hoping that Angela would just go away.

Almost as if Angela knew what Brennan was thinking, she leaned forward with a saccharine-sweet smile. "It's not gonna work, Bren…"

"I don't know what you're talking about Angela. Now, I wish you would leave. I'm very busy."

She continued to put up the pretense that she was looking for a specific document.

"No you're not…Not _that_ busy…" She stood from her chair and circled the desk, pushing Brennan's hands out of the way and sliding the drawer closed as she leaned against the desktop, effectively trapping Brennan in her chair. "Sweetie… What's wrong? What happened?"

Brennan flopped back against her chair and spun slightly away from her friend, gathering her thoughts. After a few quiet moments, she turned back and looked at the kind eyes of her best friend. "Booth and I had a fight this morning." She wrinkled her forehead, "no, not a fight - an argument. We had an argument." This time she wrinkled her nose and raised one side of her lips, "_Sort_ of, anyway…"

Angela nodded slowly, not completely surprised. She had been silently waiting for the inevitable explosion that would result in Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth going head-to-head. "Ohh-kay," Angela spoke slowly and pushed away from the desk, walking over to the door and closing it, so anyone approaching would know that the meeting was _not_ to be disturbed.

"Ange, I don't have time," Brennan stood from her seat, once again pulling up that barrier of self-preservation.

Angela turned on her heel and pinned the stubborn woman with a hard stare. "Sit. _Now_. You _do_ have time, and we _will_ talk about this. Those bodies have been waiting for 200 years; another half hour isn't going to hurt…" She pointed to the couch as she blocked the only possible escape route through which the anthropologist might attempt to flee.

Reluctantly, Brennan turned towards the sofa, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Angela, I don't think I can talk about it right now…"

The savvier woman could hear the hidden fear in the genius' voice. "Sweetie, now _is_ the time to talk about it. Listen," she followed Brennan and ushered her the rest of the distance to the sitting area, "if I need advice on dead bodies or bones, I will ask you. If you have questions about relationships and arguments, you ask me." She smiled as they sat side-by-side. "So…tell me what happened."

Brennan sighed, knowing that she did really need to talk to Angela, but suddenly preferring to just talk her concerns through with her partner… However, she feared she'd make things worse if she called him. As she played mental ping pong with her options, she wondered if, by speaking openly to Angela, if that meant she was betraying her partner, and the long-standing agreement to keep what's theirs as theirs _alone_. "OK…" she was resigned as she stared at down at her hands, wringing her fingers nervously against each other. "Booth is angry with me…"

B/B/B/B

He entered the lab with a confidence that belied his apprehension about speaking with his partner. The more the thought about their morning _disagreement_, the more he realized he had surely overreacted. And, he wondered if Bones would forgive him for not giving her the chance to speak candidly. Knowing that she was struggling with her feelings and frustrations, Booth knew he should have been more patient with her. He should _never_ have cut her off the way he did and he _definitely_ shouldn't have walked away from her by storming out of the apartment. His only hope now was that she would give him the chance to apologize and that she would finish telling him about how she was feeling. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel like she was wrong for experiencing and trying to discuss emotions…

Looking around the lab, Booth noticed a lot of faces that were unfamiliar to him, most of whom wore badges indicating they were interns. He wondered where they'd all come from and why he had never met them before. Up on the platform, he could see Wendell talking to a group of much younger interns and across the lab, in the Ookey Room, Hodgins was lecturing a team who'd formed a semi-circle around the Bug-Man. Taking in all the surroundings, Booth's eyes searched for his partner and his ears strained as they listened through the cacophony of noise for her familiar voice, but he couldn't see or hear her.

He shoved his fists into his pockets and started towards her office, but could already see that she wasn't there; the door was closed and the motion-sensor lights were off, but he headed that way anyhow. When he was about half-way across the open floor, he was assaulted by one Angela Montenegro-Hodgins, who, upon seeing him stalking in the direction of her best friend's office, came rushing out of her own office to pull him in for a little 'chat'.

"Hold on, there, Studly." Angela grabbed his arm, forcing his hand out of his pocket, and started tugging him in the direction of her studio. "We need to talk."

"Angela, I don't have time for this… I need to speak with Bones. Where is she?" Booth was not in the mood for a lecture from the determined brunette, but knew that his refusal would be in vain. It was obvious to Booth that Brennan had already spoken with her best friend, and he was about to be told-off by one angry artist.

"_What_, do you guys have a phrase book you rehearse from? Neither of you ever '_has time for this_'…You have time, trust me." She pointed to the couch as she closed the door behind them. "I won't be long, don't worry."

"If we're not going to be long, then I think I'll remain standing, then Angela."

"Sit." Once again she pointed to the couch, her stare unwavering. "I don't like to yell at people that are taller than I." Her eyebrows were knitted together as she crossed her arms over her chest. When she saw Booth's smirk at her confession of why she wanted him to sit, she knew he would acquiesce, and she sighed, knowing that she was probably overstepping the boundaries that he had set up, when he requested with his partner that their friends stay OUT of their personal relationship business.

Not wanting to give him a chance to fight back, Angela launched. "Booth, don't be made at Bren for talking to me. I forced her into it, but she needed it… You're smothering her. Look, she knows you love her and that you worry about her, but you've gotta cut 'er some slack! You have to let her feel independent again; even though we all know she is not _completely_ independent anymore." She paused for a breath, during which Booth interjected a quiet response.

"I know."

Ignoring whatever the agent seated in her office was ready to ramble on about, Angela took a deep breath and started again. "You can't drive her everywhere _all the time_. If you don't let her have a little bit of freedom, she is going to shrivel up and die, Booth. She will go crazy, and I don't mean in the metaphorical sense – she will go bat-shit-crazy and snap." She snapped her fingers for emphasis as she paced back and forth in front of the sofa on which Booth had resigned himself to sit back against.

"I know," he said again as he raised his right leg, crossing it so his ankle rested on his left knee, and he bobbed his foot gently.

Once again not hearing Booth's quiet acceptance of what she was saying, Angela changed directions and paced back towards her desk, waving her hands as she spoke. "It's not like she doesn't want to still live together, because she does! But that doesn't mean you guys have to spend every single free moment together! And that doesn't mean that you should expect her to let you dictate her schedule, either!"

"I know that too, Angela." Booth kept his voice calm, knowing that all of this pent-up ire was stemming from the feelings that Brennan had obviously vocalized to her long-time friend.

"And for crying out loud, Booth, that woman loves you! You should know her well enough that just because she wants to drive to work, it doesn't automatically mean she's going to work herself to death. She just wants to get back to some sort of normalcy!"

"Mm-hmm," he nodded his head as he stared at his bright blue and purple stripy sock, where his right pant cuff had fallen away as his foot still rested against the opposite leg.

"And that debate you two apparently had about a Christmas tree – now she's almost afraid to broach the subject of holiday decorating with you again!" Angela thrust her hands into the air in disbelief that her friend had confessed about a disagreement she and Booth had the prior week.

Booth silently raised one eyebrow, realizing that his partner must have really blown off some steam when venting to her friend that morning, to have brought up a week-old debate.

"I agree that we _should_ get an artificial one rather than killing a _perfectly good tree_…" he commented quietly, still going unheard by the ranting woman who was currently trying desperately to defend her friend while simultaneously trying to mend what she thought was a fraying relationship.

"And, Booth," she looked at her watch, "Bren said she told you that she and I were going to lunch today, so why the hell are you here?" She didn't give him the chance to answer, like a bulldozer, she just kept pushing. "I hope you didn't come here to try to change her mind about lunch. I mean, _**really**_! Did you come here to convince her that she should have lunch with you _again_, right after she told you that she and I had plans?! Do you think that we are not able to… to _function_?" She finally flopped down into the chair opposite where he sat and let her head fall backwards in seeming exhaustion.

"No." It was a simple reply, but he offered no further comment, waiting for his other replies to catch up with the woman who seemed to be mulling over in her mind the lecture she'd just delivered.

At that moment, Angela raised her head and glared at him, taking in his calm demeanor. He didn't seem upset that she was yelling at him on behalf of Brennan. In fact, he didn't even appear to be surprised. _And what was he saying when he was interrupting me?_ She wondered as she thought back to just the past few minutes.

Leaning forward, she pinned him with a hard stare, then squinted at him. "What do you mean, 'you know'?" Her voice was quiet, almost threateningly so. "If you know all this, then why did you walk out on her this morning?"

He uncrossed his leg and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, just above his knees. "I overreacted, Angela. It was the _**way**_ she said what she said this morning that hit a nerve." He sat back once more and folded his hands on his lap. "But everything you just said_, I know_. It just took me a few hours to come to my senses… Now, where is my partner, I need to speak with her." He smiled at the look of shock that crossed Angela's face.

"She's…she's down in Limbo. She kicked everyone out of there a few hours ago and she hasn't been back upstairs since."

Booth broke out in a chuckle. "That explains all these interns I've never seen before… She kicked them out of their holes, huh? Released them from the dungeon…" He glanced out the window of her office, noticing that Hodgins was taking his group on what looked like a little field trip, heading over towards Cam's office.

Angela laughed in response. "Yeah, Jack was less than pleased to have to babysit, but we had to make concessions in a hurry, ya know?" She watched her husband lecture his group of students as they passed her office, and he peeked in nodding at Booth and smiling at Angie.

Booth stood and looked at the woman sitting across from him, noticing that she looked really tired. "You feeling OK, Angela?"

She smiled slightly, "yeah, I'm OK, Booth. Just a little tired. I guess I'm not sleeping well."

Knowing that she wasn't going to open up to him about anything, _not that he really wanted to get in the middle of anything_, he just nodded. "Well, if you need anything, let us know."

Watching as the FBI agent turned to leave her office, Angela pushed herself up from the chair. "Booth, she said she wanted to be alone."

He nodded, still heading towards the door. "I'm sure she did."

"She was serious, Booth. She doesn't want to be bothered…" Angela warned, knowing it was falling on deaf ears.

"I'm certain of that, as well," he answered with a smirk. "But since when have I done _anything_ that Dr. Temperance Brennan wanted?"

"Just…" Angela faltered, not certain her friend was ready to face her fiancée just yet. "Booth, just…"

Saving her from herself, Booth turned back to Angela. "It's OK, Ange. I'll be fine, and so will Bones." He left his spot by the door and walked over to their friend. "Thanks for being there for her, Angela. You're the best," he pulled her into a friendly hug and smiled when she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist.

"Thanks, Booth. Thanks for letting me rant…and thank you for loving Bren."

Easily pulling apart, the friends smiled at each other and Booth turned to leave the studio office, noticing the group of students to whom Hodgins was talking had all turned their heads in the direction of the Agent hugging the Artist, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Hodgins grinned, knowing that the conversation his wife was dreading must have gone well, and knowing that he had absolutely nothing to worry about in the harmless hug that had captivated the attention of his gathering. He waved to Booth, who waved back, and one of the male interns turned to Jack.

"Dr. Hodgins, isn't that your _wife_ in there?"

Jack smiled, "yup."

"And who was that man hugging her? Doesn't that upset you that someone like _that_ is hugging _your_ wife?"

Hodgins just grinned and shook his head as he turned to complete the walk to Cam's autopsy room. "Sooo much to learn, so little time, Chris," he replied to the confused intern.

As they approached Dr. Saroyan's office, Jack overheard one of the female interns mumbling to another young lady amidst giggling, "Well, if that guy is giving away hugs, _whoever_ he is, he can wrap those arms around me _anytime_, _anywhere_… Did you see the way his suit hugged his body? Oh my Gawd!"

Jack turned to the student and pinned her with a hard stare from his striking blue eyes. "And if you want to ruin any chance you have at working in the field of anthropology, be sure to let Dr. Brennan hear you say that, Kacey…"

He raised an eyebrow at her confusion and turned when he heard the distinctive sounds of Cam's high heeled shoes approaching from behind.

"Be sure to let Dr. Brennan hear what?" She asked as she stood facing her Head Entomologist.

With his back to the mass of interns, he smiled, feeling ornery - and his boss knew that look. "Oh, Booth was just in and gave Angie a hug about something and Kacey, back there, said she'd like for Booth to give her a hug, too…she liked the way his 'suit hugged his body'." He air-quoted the last part while stifling the chuckle that was threatening to erupt from his chest. "So I told her that if she wanted to ruin her chances in working in anthropology, to let Dr. Brennan hear her…"

Cam gave him an admonishing look, but also struggled to hide the grin that wanted to break free. "That's enough," she put her hand on Jack's arm and gently pulled him aside, turning her attention to the group before her. "OK, so I understand Dr. Hodgins has been spending some time with you, explaining and demonstrating the importance entomology plays in solving many of our crimes. Do any of you have any questions for him before he returns to work?" Scanning the group of twelve or thirteen, she continued. "If not, then we'll move into the autopsy room; I have arranged to have you observe a partial autopsy that I will be completing this afternoon, along with the assistance of Mr. Abernathy, one of the Medico-Legal Lab's lead interns. Watch and listen, you can learn a lot of Mr. Abernathy." She turned on her heel, nodded at Hodgins in dismissal and walked into her office, trailed by the string of students who were all vying for a chance to work upstairs in the lab, versus being relegated to the basement, cataloguing bones of long-lost victims.

B/B/B/B

From around the corner, Booth paused just long enough to see Cam take over leading the group that had, moments before, been under Hodgins' charge. He grinned and turned towards the hallway that would lead him to the stairwell of his destination. As he approached the closed glass door that would take him down to where his partner worked in solitude, he noticed a nervous-looking young man sitting uncomfortably on a stool just beside the door.

When Booth neared the young man's post, he slid from his perch and squared his shoulders, attempting to put up a brave front.

"Sorry, sir. No one can go down there." The boy stood in front of the door, as if that would stop Booth from getting down to see his girl.

Booth lowered his head, hiding his growing smile. When he raised it again, he was wearing his best poker face. "Move, kid."

The nervous intern shifted from foot to foot, but didn't waver from his post. "No. Sorry, I can't do that. Dr. Brennan specifically said that no one was to disturb her."

Booth stepped a little closer to the boy, invading his personal space. It was just too irresistible for the Agent to torment the student…

"I said, _move_." His voice was low and gravelly, threatening.

Anxiously, the kid shook his head, feeling beads of sweat already breaking out on his upper lip and temples. "No. Dr. Brennan was explicit in her instructions."

Thrusting his fists into his pockets, Booth cocked his head sideways. "She threatened to have her internship suspended if you let her be disturbed, didn't she? Threatened to throw you out on your ass, so to speak?"

The young man looked up at the stern brown eyes that were way too close for comfort. Without a word, he simply nodded.

Booth backed off a little, seeing that he was about to make the boy pee his pants. "What's your name, kid?"

"Joshua. Joshua Reading, sir."

"Well, Joshua-Joshua Reading-sir, if you don't move I am going to do worse that suspend your internship. I am going to arrest you for interfering with an FBI investigation. Now, step aside…"

Joshua paled. "Oh, God, you're Agent Booth, aren't you?"

"The one and only," Booth smirked briefly before turning hard once again, having a little too much fun at Joshua-Joshua's expense.

"She – she told me that, under NO circumstances was I to allow you to go down into Bone Storage looking for her…" he stammered when he saw Booth's eyes flare. "She… She said that you were harassing her and I was to call security if you came 'round…."

"Did she, now?" Booth bowed his head for a moment, struggling to swallow the chuckle that was building. _Bones, Bones, Bones… You are one evil mentor…_ He raised his head yet again, this time looking angrier, and stepped forward again. He grabbed Joshua's wrists and turned the boy around, handcuffing one wrist while holding the other. "You're under arrest, Joshua-Joshua Reading-sir," he said quietly as he looked for someplace to secure the young intern for a little while. Spotting a handrail along the hallway, he tugged the boy backwards and threaded the cuffs through the rail, fixing his other wrist in place.

"Just one, sir… Just one Joshua, not two…and there's no 'sir' on my name… sir…." the boy stuttered.

Still standing behind him, Booth almost laughed out loud, and then spoke to the back of his head. "So were you lying to me _before_, or are you lying _now_? Before you told me your name was _Joshua-Joshua_ _Reading-sir_; now you're saying its _Joshua_ Reading. Which is it, kiddo?"

Booth moved from behind him and walked to the stool on which he had been perched by the door, and he dragged it back to where he had the boy cuffed. Setting it in place, he pointed to it, giving the nervous student someplace to sit while he went downstairs to his partner.

And then the rambling began… "Just Joshua Reading, sir… Just one Joshua and no sir. I didn't mean to lie. I didn't _really_ lie, I was trying to tell you my name, but then I was only going to just tell you my first name, but then I thought I _should_ tell you me last name and then I said my first name again and-"

"Stop." Booth raised a hand and had to turn away, otherwise Joshua would have seen the growing smile that he was unable to hide. "Don't move… I'll be back and we'll discuss the grounds of your arrest."

"Sir… I was only trying to do my-"

"I said _stop_. That means stop _talking_, Joshua Reading…" Glancing over his shoulder in faux anger, Booth continued. "Now, I am going down to speak with Dr. Brennan, and you are going to sit there. And I will be back soon. Got it?"

Joshua nodded nervously, wondering which was worse… losing his internship by Dr. Brennan or being arrested by Agent Booth… Both seemed terrifyingly _terrifying_… So he sat mutely, hoping that he could figure a way out of this whole mess.

Booth turned and opened the door quickly and turned, locking it behind him while pinning the intern with a hard glare through the glass. He turned and started to descend the stairwell, wondering in what kind of mood he'd find his partner. He walked noiselessly, and paused partway down, spotting his fiancée across the room, hunched over a table containing a partially complete skeleton of tannic-stained bones.

Booth loved watching his partner work; loved the way she methodically moved around a set of remains, the way she held such high regards for the victim. She plucked a rib from its place on the table and placed it under the scope, bringing the image up on the monitor and studied it for several minutes before making notes on the computer keypad. Moving to the next rib, she did the same thing. Booth silently squatted down and sat on a step, captivated as he observed her careful diligence. He felt his lips curl up into a soft smile when she moved to the foot of the table, now with her back completely to him.

Despite everything – their fights, their arguments, their bantering – he loved his partner beyond anything… He loved the quiet, often-overlooked care she would demonstrate to the surviving families of skeletonized victims, not resting until she could pinpoint the cause of death or the details surrounding their final moments. He loved that they both wanted to find justice for those lost – that they wanted to give voices to the victims who could no longer speak. He loved that she found solace in her work. He loved the way she _moved_ when she worked…

He grinned. He loved the way her body swayed; he loved the tilt of her head when she was concentrating. He _**loved**_ knowing what was hidden beneath that blue Jeffersonian lab coat, and loved even more that he was the only one who would ever again know…

"Did you come just to sit and watch me work, Booth, or did you have something to say?" She spoke evenly, breaking the silence, while keeping her back to him.

He grinned as he rose from to his feet. "I didn't think you heard me," he said softly, completing his descent, but remaining at the base of the stairs.

As she continued to study the femur in her hands, she replied. "Of course I heard you, Booth; there's no one else here…and no one else would dare walk down those steps when I said not to… Even if I didn't hear you, I would have known you were there… I can smell your cologne." She replaced the femur and tapped something into her computer again, then moved her hands to the skeleton's feet, carefully selecting a bone to study.

"I didn't want to disturb you, Bones... And I'm sorry if I did. But…" he started to step forward then stopped himself, unsure if he was welcome yet into her personal space. "But I needed to see you…" His voice was low, and soft, and raw.

Brennan placed the metatarsal bone back in its rightful position and moved her hands so they were gripping the edges of the table, still keeping her back to her partner. She inhaled slowly, letting her eyes fall closed as she took in a lungful of the cologne that now permeated the room…the cologne that she loved…the cologne that brought comfort to every fiber of her being.

But then she remembered that she was angry… She had momentarily forgotten, because she was in the same room with the man she loved…but that very man was the same reason she was mad, and she snapped her eyes open and did a quick about face. Intent to sound-off, determined to tell her partner to go to his mythical Hell, she clenched her jaw and fisted her hands at her sides.

"I'm sorry, Bones…" he began softly, wanting to clear the air immediately when he saw the anger in her stance, in her face. He took another tentative step in her direction. "I'm sorry I got so mad when you were just trying to express your feelings. I'm sorry I left the way I did. I'm sorry I kissed you so hard, then turned away in the street."

He took another tiny step towards her and when she took a deep breath, preparing to yell at him, he quickly continued. "And I'm sorry I've smothered you – that was never my intention. I never wanted to make you feel like you were under my thumb… I never wanted you to feel trapped. I just get so scared, Bones. I love you so much that it terrifies me to think of what can happen in the blink of an eye… and I keep thinking that if I'm with you, that I can keep you safe. But I never meant to make you feel caged, Bones, honest." By the end of his speech, he was standing directly in front of her. Booth's hands itched to reach out and touch her, but he held back, still not sure if she would accept his apology.

Brennan could feel her iron-will crumbling as she listened to his apology, and she suddenly felt her own guilt building. Guilt for the way she worded her frustrations that morning. Guilt for the way she accused him of babysitting her… Guilt for the way she dismissed how much he'd helped her in recovering from her ordeal.

She unclenched her jaw and let her fists fall loose as she looked into the deep chocolate pools that begged for her forgiveness. She kept her hands to her sides, also uncertain if she'd be welcome to touch him or not, as she began to speak.

"Booth…I'm sorry, too. I went about it all wrong, and I said all the inappropriate things…" She bowed her head in embarrassment, fighting back tears. "I didn't mean all those things, Booth…" she closed her eyes as she continued facing the floor. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Finally giving into his need, Booth raised his hand and curled his forefinger gently under her chin, tilting her face up towards his. "I love you, Bones," he whispered. "And I need to ask for your forgiveness. I'll try my best to not be so overbearing."

She finally let the errant tear slip from the corner of her right eye, tired of fighting it. "Only if you'll forgive me for saying those horrible things, Booth… I didn't mean them the way they came out…"

Her words were cut off as he pressed his mouth to hers in a soft kiss, moving his hand from where he hooked her chin and spreading it across her silky cheek. He moved his other hand to her hip and pulled her into him.

She didn't resist being held by her partner in this way – the warmth of his wide hand against her cool cheek was welcome as his heat penetrated her skin; and his other hand, as it cupped her hip, flexed, causing his fingertips to press into the softness of her curves. Brennan brought her hands up between their bodies and gripped his biceps, wrapping her wiry fingers around his much larger arms.

Booth deepened the kiss slowly, hesitatingly. He tangled his fingers into her hair as he tilted her head to her right as he did the same, and ran his tongue along the thin line of her closed lips, asking for permission. She, of course, acquiesced immediately and parted them to his probing tongue, tasting him for only the second time that day. She felt him glide over her teeth and collide with her warm tongue in a slow, but powerful dance. Without breaking the kiss, Brennan struggled to pull the gloves from her hands and finally settled her fingers along his jaw, holding him in place as she kissed him in return, chasing his tongue back into his mouth as she took her turn in sliding along the straight edge of his strong teeth.

The sheer need to breathe caused the pair to pull apart, but they kept their lips pressed lightly against each other's, breathing the same air and nipping playfully. When Booth's hand slid from his partner's hip to the small of her back, he pulled her tighter against his body, pressing his growing erection into her abdomen with a quiet growl.

She smiled into their light kiss and moaned in appreciation. "Mmm… Booth," she rotated her hips in his direction and lowered her hands from his neck back down to his strong upper-arms, and squeezed, pulling herself into him a little tighter.

Booth opened his eyes slowly and met her darkened blues. His breath caught – years ago, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would probably never get used to the striking brilliance that shone in her bright eyes. But during these past couple months, as their personal relationship deepened, he found more and more often that those same eyes left him speechless time and again.

Thrusting his hips against her once more, he started to back away, knowing that they couldn't do this at work…especially in Limbo, where, he knew after the Zach / Gormogon incident, the Jeffersonian had several security cameras installed, which were regularly monitored. Reluctantly, he untangled his fingers from her now-messy hair, smoothing it down as best he could. He didn't break full contact, however, he simply brought his other hand from the small of her back to her waist, when he rested it lightly.

She smiled up at him, understanding why he was pulling away, but disappointed all the same. Brennan rolled her lips between her teeth in brief thought then met his eyes. "So, does this mean we're not fighting anymore? Because I don't like to fight with you."

He chuckled, "That's exactly what it means, Baby…And for the record, I don't like fighting either. Not with you... Not like that." He brought both hands to the collar of her lab coat and straightened it out for her then met her eyes once more. "I love you, Bones."

Her smile warmed his heart as it grew. "I love you, too, Booth…Thank you for coming to see me."

"Well, you're welcome. But there's something else that brought me over here, too…" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to guess.

"Your SUV brought you here, I would assume…" She grinned, purposely acting like she didn't understand the phrase.

"Bones…" He tilted his head and grinned knowing that she understood and was playing.

"Do we have a case, Booth?"

Her smile was infectious, and Booth felt his own growing. "Yeah, Bones. We've got a case."

"Is it wrong to be this excited about a case, Booth?" Brennan's forehead wrinkled as a little 'V' formed between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Oh, Baby," Booth thought about the Body Farm they'd soon be visiting, "You have _no_ idea…." He looped his arm around her shoulders and started escorting her upstairs so he could fill her in on the details as he had them.

When they approached the door, Brennan turned to her mate curiously. "How did you get down here, Booth? I posted one of my interns at the door with specific instructions not to let you down here." She grinned, knowing that he would repay her for that little scheme.

"Oh, yeah, I heard all about your plan for Joshua-Joshua to call security on me…" He smiled when he saw her confusion at the name, but he continued. "But I arrested him and cuffed him to the handrail." He smiled smugly as she looked at him in shock.

"You ARRESTED Joshua!? Booth! What the hell is the matter with you!? He's just a first-year college kid!" She started to rush up the remainder of the stairs, but Booth caught her hand gently, but firmly.

"Bones," he pulled her back down closer to his level so he could meet her eyes, placing her one step above his. He held onto her waist, "I'm not _really_ going to arrest him, I just needed to get him out of the way…and I needed to get down there to see you…" He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth before he continued. "And don't you _**DARE**_ cancel his internship, Bones… Joshua-Joshua seems like a good kid…"

Booth turned his partner around and they continued walking up the stairs. "Booth, his name is Joshua, not Joshua-Joshua… Are you missing Gordon-Gordon?" She raised an eyebrow at the way he was addressing the student.

"Nah, I'm not missing Gordon-Gordon." He grinned as he reached for the locked door and twisted the dead bolt-type of security. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her through the now-open glass door, and she promptly rushed to the side of her defeated-looking intern.

"Joshua, are you OK?" She asked, the concern clear in her eyes.

Her blushing student bowed his head in shame. "Yes, Dr. Brennan. I'm sorry I couldn't stop your stalker from finding you," he kept his words hushed as he recalled his idol mentioned being 'harassed' by the agent. "But I _really_ did try… I guess since he's arresting me, though, you won't have to sever my internship… the FBI will do that for us…"

She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Joshua, he's not my stalker," she turned to see Booth already fishing the key out of his pocket. Turning back to the small-framed young man seated on the stool, she continued. "He's my Partner, and he's going to un-cuff you, _right now_…" She emphasized the last part for Booth's benefit to know she was not happy with his method of controlling Joshua. She eyed said-partner sideways as he moved around her to unlock the cuffs, barely hiding the smile that was trying to be seen. Refocusing her attention to one of the brightest up-and-coming interns they had, she smiled. "And don't worry about your internship; I'm not planning on severing it anytime soon, Joshua… Unless, of course, you do something that deserves such an action."

She stood back and watched the young man stand nervously as he glanced at her much taller partner. "What happens now, Agent Booth?"

"Well, JJ, I would assume Dr. Brennan is going to have to re-box the skeleton that's on the table downstairs… Isn't that part of your job here?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

Joshua looked back at his mentor, wondering if the assumption was correct.

Brennan moved her eyes from watching her boyfriend's strong profile and looked at Joshua. "Yes, please box up the remains and catalogue everything I've notated into the central spreadsheet. Then cross reference the injuries I've documented with the historical records in the same file and see if you can find any matches. I'll expect your report by the end of the day, Mr. Reading." Her delivery was curt and to the point and Joshua nodded as he moved away from the partners, aiming for the staircase.

"Hey, JJ!" Booth called quickly, gaining the kid's attention. "Good job up here today." He let a smile break through. "You did well." With a quick nod, Booth turned away from the seemingly confused boy and looked at his partner. "Shall we reconvene in your office, Dr. Brennan?" He extended his arm in the direction they would be headed and she fell into step beside him.

"Booth, you should not have treated Joshua like that… _Arresting_ him…" She shook her head as she reprimanded her lover.

"Oh," he looked at her incredulously. "Like it's any worse than you telling poor ole JJ that you'll cut his time here short if he didn't do _exactly_ what you wanted him to do!?" Booth gave her a wide-eyed look, waiting for an explanation.

"That was different…That was…_motivation_, Booth. _You_ just _bullied_ him." She was defiant in her response as she raised her chin, causing Booth to smile.

"Motivation my ass, Bones…You threatened that poor kid…" Booth had to laugh when she actually had the nerve to look insulted at his remark. But before he could lecture her any further, she quickly directed the subject _away_ from her.

"Booth, first you called him Joshua-Joshua, then you called him JJ. Why? Neither of those is his name…"

"Oh, you know, Bones…. It's a guy-thing…" Booth grinned as he opened another door, which would lead them into the main portion of the lab.

"What do you mean a guy-thing? Like a guy-hug?"

"_Nooo_, it's not a _hug_, Bones… It's just a _thing_… _Just_ … a _thing_… you know what? Just forget it… Don't worry about it, OK?..." Booth shook his head at the quirkiness of his partner and her inability to just leave things alone.

Just when she was about to question him, yet again, he cut her off. "So, Bones, you wanna hear about this case, or what?" He knew that the only successful way he could distract her one-track mind from the path it was travelling was to get her talking about a case. And this case would be a doosie…

**Postscript A/N **

**And we all know that Brennan really does have a one-track mind! Poor Booth, he's going to have to deal with her excitement of visiting a Body Farm… He's gonna have his hands full. LOL **

**Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter, I would greatly appreciate it! I had a lot less reviews on chapter 2 than I did on chapter 1; I don't know if that means that less people read chapter 2 or if less people decided to review. I can never figure out the damn traffic stats for these stories… But anyway, please take a moment and let me know if you're interested in my story still! ;) Thank you (from both me & my Muse!) **

**Peace & love, my friends, **

**~jazzy**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Welcome back! Thank you all for your kind words about the early chapters of 'Death, Plus One.' Your encouragement is much appreciated and I hope you continue to enjoy. **

**In response to a few messages: YES, we will be seeing Tusker again, I promise! LOL**

**So, I managed to make it to chapter 4 before introducing any smut… but this story is Rated M, after all, and I just couldn't wait any longer…I was going to try to put it off until chapter 5, but decided… WHY? If you're offended by adult-themed, descriptive scenes, don't read this chapter, come back next time. ;) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or the characters, nor do I have any rights to the University of Tennessee's Anthropology Research Facility. But I do own this story line. **

"So," Booth began as he flopped onto the comfortable couch in his partner's office. "I got called up to Cullen's office today." He eyed Brennan as she sat down on the opposite end of the couch, slightly turned so she would face him. "He received a call from the Knoxville Field Office in need of some assistance… _They_ specifically requested 'one Dr. Temperance Brennan' to assist with a situation that arose there in Knoxville." Booth paused when he saw the trademark 'V' form in his fiancée's forehead, indicating that her genius brain was already processing the location of their next case.

"Booth…Why would Knoxville call for me? They have UT Professors right there…Are the remains so badly decomposed that even _they_ can't identify them?" Brennan knew she was the best in her field, but she also knew that the University had some _very_ skilled Anthropologists on staff.

"The FBI has control of the case, and the FBI wants _you_." Booth smiled; he was proud of the success and good reputation his partner had built for herself.

"Oh, well, alright then… What are the details? Why did they request us?" She turned further in her seat, to face him more squarely, pulling her right leg up onto the couch and tucking her ankle beneath her left thigh.

"Well, they didn't really want me; they only wanted you…" Booth raised an eyebrow when he saw her immediate defenses go up.

"I won't work with another Agent. Tell Cullen I said 'no', Booth. I won't do it."

Booth reached out and patted her bent knee, "Relax, there Bones… Cullen already told them, if they want you, they get me. Period." When he saw her satisfied sigh, he continued. "Turns out, there was a training exercise for a team of cadaver dogs early this morning and one of them, a rookie trainee called…" he pulled his notecards from his jacket pocket and referred to his bullet-points, "…Tusker, found body parts where there shouldn't have been any…" He flipped to the next card, "Seems that the young dog found 17 dismembered body parts scattered across the property." He looked up and met her intense blue eyes.

"Property? What property, Booth? Most rookie cadaver dogs are trained in a controlled setting, using synthetic odors that resemble those of decomposing flesh."

"Yeah, I know how they're taught, Bones… But this one was ready for his first group exercise and was taken by his handler out to UT's Body Farm… And they found a body that didn't belong…"

"Are you serious?" Brennan tried to hide her immediate intrigue and excitement, but failed miserably. "There's an unaccounted-for body buried on the facility's land? Are they sure it wasn't one of theirs? How did they determine the details? Seventeen parts, you said? Booth… this is going to be a very interesting case. I haven't been to the Anthropology Facility for several years, and the last time I was able to get there was at the very beginning of one of their semesters, so the corpses were all still very fresh…But it's December; the bodies have been there for months…" She got a far-away dreamy look in her eye as she rambled on and on without breathing and rose from her seat to start pacing her office. "They perform fascinating studies there, Booth… Despite the local push-back he received from the community, Dr. Bass was a mastermind to have started such a project as the Anthropological Research Facility – that is its proper name, Booth, not '_the Body Farm_'... The University and Scientific Community that supported Bass have _definitely_ benefited from his foresight, which, of course, has benefited the public in so many ways. I look forward to seeing the research this year's students are conducting…" As she paced, she started to gather her personal things and her laptop, placing everything into her messenger bag. "I wonder if we'll have time to meet with Dr. Bass since we'll be right there in town…I've had some theories about some hypothetical situations that I'd like to run by him; perhaps prompt a study to begin with next semester's under-grads…" She went to her bookshelf as she mumbled and pulled several journals from their spaces and crammed them into her bag as well. "I can't wait for you to meet him, Booth…he's a fascinating individual. Not _quite_ the genius that I am, but still a brilliant scientist. I'd like to ask him…"

At that point Booth had to cut her off, for fear that she was going to break out into an hour long discussion using words that he couldn't even begin to pronounce, let alone understand. "Whoa, whoa, Bones…" He stood from his seat and walked to where his girlfriend had stopped in her tracks.

Without missing a beat, Brennan turned to him with a smile, and, in a quick moment of reminiscence, blurted out "Horse!"

Wrinkling his brow, he cocked his head and just stared for a moment. "Wh-what?"

"You remember, Booth! The word association exercise that we did years ago with Sweets! You said 'Whoa' and I said 'Horse', just like we did back then." She beamed at him with an underlying excitement that made him adore her just a little more.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember… I remember that I said '_WHOA'_ when you burst out with the realization that you wanted to have a kid…"

"Well, that's the day I discovered I _wanted_ to have a child, Booth!" She smirked and blushed lightly as she let her head fall towards her shoulder a little bit, "_that's_ when I realized I wanted to have _your_ progeny, Booth…" She closed the distance between them quickly and ran her finger down the front of his suit jacket while looking up at him with her big, blue doe-eyes, "I still do, you know…"

"Aww, _Christ_, Bones…" Booth grabbed her waist and pulled her body against his, crashing his mouth down onto hers. He met her lips with his already-open mouth and immediately thrust his tongue into her more-than-willing warmth. They swallowed each other's growls and moans, and when Booth tried to pull back, knowing that anyone passing her office could look in and see the spectacle, Brennan fisted his light gray lapels even tighter and kept him in place. He submitted to her aggression for a few minutes more, tasting her sweet flavor, nipping her soft lips, and squeezing her curvy hips before he physically pushed her slowly away from his body, their lips being the last thing to part.

She pouted slightly and tried to pull him back to her, but he was firm in his grip on her hips, holding her at arm's length. "Booth…! I was quite enjoying that…"

He chuckled and released his rigid hold on her hips before he raised one hand so his finger could rub against her protruding lower lip. "I know you were, babe…. So was I… But we don't need the entire lab enjoying it too…" He jerked his head towards the wall of windows, through which anyone and everyone in the lab could see, and she followed his lead, knowing he was right.

Straightening his collar, she smiled softly, her eyes following the movements of her hands, "Remember the kiss under the mistletoe?"

He watched her face, danced his deep brown eyes across her smooth, creamy skin, focused on the long eyelashes that were lowered from his gaze, and he smiled in response to her gently upturned lips. "How could I forget? You were amazing, Bones…" His voice dropped half an octave as he reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "What about it?" He wondered where her mind was ambling off to.

"Nothing…" she finally met his stare, "I was just remembering it…"

The pretty pink flush that blossomed across her cheeks spread down her neck and disappeared beneath her lab coat right before his eyes. "You're beautiful, Bones… I don't think I told you that yet today."

Dropping her hands from his chest, lest she start something more, she smiled at the compliment. "So are you, Booth."

Booth laughed and dropped his head back. "Booones! I told you before… Men are _not_ beautiful! Men are handsome or good looking, or sexy, or _whatever_… but not _beautiful_!"

Defiantly, she didn't back down; she just smiled smugly back. "_You_ are, Booth. You are all those other things too, but I think you are beautiful..."

Knowing he'd get nowhere with this line of conversation, he smiled and shook his head, accepting her praise for what it was – sheer honesty, Temperance-Brennan-style. He just hoped that none of the guys at the Bureau ever heard her call him 'beautiful', because he'd never live it down… "Thanks, Bones."

She turned away and started to remove her lab coat. "I'm ready when you are, Booth."

"Bones, you don't have to leave yet; we don't fly out until after 8:00 tonight." He watched as she shrugged the jacket back on and turned to face him, raising her eyebrow in surprise. He continued to explain, "Charlie couldn't get us on an earlier direct flight, so just try to be home so we can leave for the airport by 5:30-ish; that'll give us time to deal with rush-hour traffic and _still_ make it to Dulles in time. I may be FBI, and you might be my famous partner, but we still have to abide by TSA rules." He rolled his eyes at the notion of having to be at the airport two hours in advance of their flight, but there was little he could do about it.

She walked back over to stand in front of him and smiled, "So I will still be able to have lunch with Angela, then?"

"Yup," he could see that she was happy about that, and when she was happy, so was he.

"That's great. She said she had something important to discuss with me." Her smile faltered slightly, and Booth watched as a wave of what appeared to be guilt washed over her face. Hesitantly, she continued, "Booth, don't be angry…" she place her open palm against the middle of his chest, but didn't give him a chance to talk. "I spoke to Angela this morning…about our argument…I am sorry if that betrays our agreement of what's ours is ours, but I just needed to talk…I just needed to voice my feelings to an unbiased party so I could make sense of them. I never meant to do anything wrong…"

Booth covered her hand with his own much larger one, leaving it where it rested against his chest. He smiled when she looked up at him. "I know you did, Bones. I knew you would – and it doesn't surprise me. Of course I'm not upset, baby…Although I dare say that Angela is _hardly_ an _unbiased party_, she is still your best friend and I'm glad you two talked."

Feeling relief spread throughout her entire body, Brennan fell against his chest and let him wrap his arms around her shoulders. "Thank you, Booth," she muttered against his tie as she sunk into his embrace for just a few moments.

Booth kissed his partner on the top of her head, "I love you, Bones," he said into the loose strands of hair as he pulled her close. "But I gotta go, Babe. I have some things to wrap up at the office before we leave." He felt her nod against his body and tightened his hold quickly before beginning to release her. When she pulled back he looked down at her smile. "I'll see you at home, Bones. Don't be too late, OK? Cullen figures we should pack for about a week, just to be on the safe side."

Brennan nodded and pulled him back for a loose hug before letting him leave, whispering her love for him in return. Just at that moment, Cam chose to march her group of interns back across the lab, towards Angela's Studio Office, to transfer them to her capable care for a while. The same few students who had witnessed Booth hugging Angela earlier, stopped in their tracks when they crossed in front of a wall of glass that looked in on Brennan's office. They stopped to gawk at the sight of the well-dressed, _well-built_ man now embracing the most famous person any of them had ever encountered in their so-far-brief career in science.

"Who _is_ that guy?" Chris, the young man who'd questioned Hodgins earlier, mumbled. "And what the hell kind of job does he do around here?"

"I dunno," Kacey replied as she stared through the windows slack-jawed, "but I _gotta_ get transferred out of the basement and up here to where all the action is…"

Startling the students out of their revelry, Cam cleared her throat, staring pointedly at the small group, and gestured towards Angela's office, where the rest of the interns had gathered. The four strays hurried along, muttering apologies to the pathologist and scurried into the brightly lit studio to join the rest of their team. Cam chuckled as she watched the four of them scamper away, and then turned to see what had grabbed their attention. She saw the partners, still embracing, but just pulling back from each other as Booth pressed a kiss to Brennan's forehead. Cam grinned; she had been witness to Brennan's sour mood that morning when the anthropologist came into work and had avoided her on purpose. But it was clear to see that the partners were back to their old selves once more, so Cam turned and headed back into her office, feeling slightly sorry for Angela for having to deal with the group of ADD students of which she was happy to finally be rid.

B/B/B/B

"I'm home!" Brennan called into the quiet apartment, her excitement for their upcoming assignment almost boiling over.

"I'm back here, babe, just finishing packing," Booth replied by yelling from the confines of the closet, where he was choosing which ties to take with him for the week. He smiled when she appeared in the door way, leaning in for a kiss 'hello', which he gladly accepted and pulled her into the close quarters with him.

"Hey, baby…" he kissed her again, "how was your afternoon?" He leaned back, keeping his arms locked around her waist as she smiled up at him.

"It was very good. I wrapped up everything that would be pending for the next seven days and left instructions for Clark regarding remaining unfinished work that I organized." She leaned up for one more kiss before pulling back and grabbing her travel suitcase from the corner of the closet. "How about yours?" she asked in return as she exited the small space and threw the suitcase onto the bed so she could start loading it.

"Uneventful. Wrapped up what I could on the cold cases Charlie and I were working, but they're still _far_ from solved." Booth zipped his suitcase closed and moved it over by the door then turned back to his partner with a quizzical look. "Did you fit all the investigation equipment that you're going to need into your little car?

"I didn't have to; Cam made arrangements to have everything overnighted to the Knoxville FBI lab. It was taken this afternoon by courier." Brennan turned to the bedside drawer and pulled out several pairs of panties for their trip, causing Booth to stop in his tracks and smile at her selection. She chose her practical cotton panties for work…and _then_, with a quick, flash of a smile in his direction, she chose some of her lacy G-strings and bikinis for their free time… Booth _loved_ going out in the evenings, knowing that she was wearing unbelievably sexy lingerie beneath whatever outfit she put together. When she looked up from her task, she met his already-darkened eyes and smiled as she placed the garments into her bag.

Booth circled the foot of the bed and walked up behind his fiancée, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his open palms on her tummy. He nuzzled into her neck playfully as she chuckled in response to his reaction to the items she'd packed. "Hmmm…" he hummed against her skin contentedly. "I love you, Bones."

Brennan turned in her partner's arms and brought her hands to his chest, smiling up at him. "I love you, too, Booth." She pecked him quickly on the lips. "Thank you for coming to the lab today, Booth. I know you had to, about the case anyway, but…thank you for _talking_ first."

Tilting his head to one side, he studied her pale features. "Thank you for letting me talk, baby." He unwrapped his arms from around her waist and palmed her hips as he kissed her fully, before pulling away slowly and moving towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower, Bones. I'll be out in a few."

She nodded in acknowledgement as she watched him retreat, observing how he was already unbuttoning his oxford as he moved. As soon as Booth was in the bathroom, Brennan set about packing quickly, intent on joining him in the shower before he was done. Mentally, she congratulated herself on being so well-traveled and organized, that she could pack in mere moments, as opposed to many people she knew, who could take upwards of an hour to gather what they needed for a seven-day trip.

Booth was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when he felt the unmistakable current of cool air invade his steamy sauna-like shower, and he knew his partner would be stepping into the tiled stall to join him within seconds. He pretended not to notice, keeping his back to the door, wondering what she would do first. He didn't have to wait long; she ran her long, thin fingers along his back, starting at his waist and following his spine up to his neck, which was craned forward, letting the water wash away the remainder of his shampoo.

"Hmmm…" his smooth baritone timbre reverberated in the enclosed space, "I wonder who that could be…" He smiled as his girl flexed her splayed fingers against his tense muscles.

Brennan knew how to play this game, so she replied softly and seductively, but with a hint of playfulness, "I'll give you three guesses – but the first two don't count…"

"Huh…" he chuckled, "guess I'd better make damn sure that my third guess has a high probability of being right…" With a wide grin, he turned to face her, enjoying the feel of her hands moving against his slick skin. "Better yet, I'll just cheat and turn around," he joked as he bent his head forward, leaning in for a tender kiss, which was quickly reciprocated.

"You're such a cheater, Booth," Brennan mumbled against his lips as he grinned into another kiss.

Booth wrapped his hands around her torso, pulling her naked body against his possessively as he turned them, so she could get beneath the hot water raining from the showerhead. "Only in games, Bones… And only with you. I'd never cheat when it comes to something important."

"I know," she smiled at his simple promise.

Watching as she bent her head backwards, wetting her hair completely, Booth reached for her shampoo bottle and grinned to himself. Even after being with his partner for months, he still felt a flush of excitement that, after eight years of denying themselves the comfort of being together, they were _really_ a couple… And when she raised her head from the downward stream of water, she opened her bright blue eyes and met his browns, holding her palm out so he'd pour her shampoo for her.

Obliging her silent request, he squeezed the necessary amount of shampoo into her open hand, then turned and grabbed her body gel. Booth opted to leave her loofa hanging where it was, and squirted the body wash directly into his own palm instead. Watching silently as she craned her head backwards, away from him, and scrubbed her hair, (something he loved _doing_ as much as he loved _watching_), he began spreading her mango and vanilla body wash over her torso and waist, causing her to squeak in slight surprise when he hit a particularly ticklish spot. She raised her head and, through the downpour of watery bubbles, glared at him with one open eye as he feigned innocence.

"Sorry," he smiled and continued to rub her body while she finished rinsing her long tresses. Booth paid special attention to running his hands over her curves…all of them. His eyes followed his movements as he let his palms slide across her tummy, around her waist and down to her hips. He reached back and spread the sweet and clean-smelling soap across the small of her back and then_, finally lower_, gliding across the perfectly proportioned swell of her heart-shaped ass. He trailed his fingers back up her body and, after gathering more gel, ran his strong fingers back up her torso so he could cover her perky breasts, playfully squeezing them and tweaking her nipples in the process… But he didn't stay there long, much to Brennan's dismay; instead he ran his hands down her now-lowered arms and finally intertwined his fingers with hers when he reached the end of her limbs. He raised his eyes from where they trailed his movements and met her crystal blue-grays as she watched him.

Without speaking, Booth pushed his partner backwards slightly, until her body was situated so the shower water would rinse her back and buttocks first. Brennan stretched up to her tippy toes, so she could reach Booth's lips, but neither partner broke eye contact as they searched the depths of each other. After a brief kiss, Booth turned his girl so she could rinse the suds from the front of her body. When she turned, Brennan let Booth pull her body back against his, so his chest was flush against her back as he spread his hands across her torso, helping the water to rinse her body clean.

Brennan's heart was beating wildly as she struggled to control her breathing; she loved sharing a shower with her partner. She loved the way he always formed his hands to her contours; the care with which he touched her; the attention he doted upon her emotionally as well as physically. She also enjoyed being on the giving end of washing his body and studying the way he reacted to her touch. She enjoyed the way his roughened and calloused skin felt beneath her fingers; the sounds that he let slip from his throat when she massaged a tight muscle, loosening it for him; the way his hard body glistened from water droplets compliments of their steamy heat.

As she melted into the strong arms encircling her body, and leaned against him as he pressed his mouth to the crook of her neck, Brennan was reminded (_not that she actually forgot_) what _else_ she really enjoyed about their shared showers. She could feel the way he pressed his erection against the curve of her ass and she arched her back to increase the pressure between them. Booth growled in approval against her sweet skin and repositioned his arms until he was palming a heavy breast in each hand as he crowded into her personal space from behind. He grinned when his partner's song-like moan reached his ears, and he squeezed firmly, pulling her diamond-tipped nipples between his thick fingers. His ministrations elicited sultry guttural sighs and gasps, which only served to stroke his cocky ego.

"Bones," he breathed into her ear, "we don't have much time, baby…but I don't think I can wait 'til tonight…Not after you went through all the trouble of joining me in here…" The desperation was clear in his voice, and as his breath skipped across her wet skin, Brennan felt shivers rake through her body. He bowed his head once more, licking the smooth skin from just behind her ear down to her shoulder as he maneuvered their position within the shower stall so they were sideways to the cascade.

Brennan turned in his arms, bringing her own hands up to his shoulders as she reached for his mouth with hers. When their lips met, it was the same as it always was – pure electric. The partners were still amazed at the effect they each had on the other, and it never ceased to amaze either of them, the speed with which they could be ready for each other. She swallowed his moan and replied with one of her own as their tongues met and dueled for dominance.

Knowing they had to leave for the airport, Brennan talked herself down, and subsided to Booth's dominance, knowing that he would take her fast and hard, to ensure that they both got what they wanted; what they needed. And in that moment, with the steam from the hot water settling around them and Booth's wide hands covering her ass as he kneaded and tugged, Brennan decided that 'fast and hard' was what she wanted, too.

Pulling back as soon as he felt her submission, Booth smiled gently. "I promise to make it up to you later, baby." He palmed her thigh and pulled it up to his hip and she followed suit with her other leg.

Using his shoulders as stability, Brennan hoisted up and wrapped both of her long, strong legs around her partner, holding tight to his waist as he sandwiched her body between his own much larger frame and the cool tiles of the wall. With a knowing grin, Brennan met his deep eyes, "I might just hold you to that, Booth, so you…"

Without waiting for his partner to finish her sentence, Booth rocked his hips against hers, thrusting into her heat immediately. "Nnnggg…" he groaned when she sheathed him perfectly.

The anthropologist lost track of all cognitive thought as soon as she felt his length stretch her walls deliciously. Even after so many months of being with Booth, sharing his bed, loving him completely and wholly, he could still silence her, both vocally and mentally, with just his body. Whether he was running his calloused hands over her silky skin, or his strong lips were nuzzling that secret spot behind her ear, or his incredibly irresistible end-of-day five o'clock shadow was dragging across the back of her shoulders as he took in her unique scent while dressing (_or undressing_) at the end of their workday, Seeley Booth rendered the loquacious best-selling author speechless more often than not. And during their time together, Temperance Brennan had tried to reason the bodily reactions she experienced to her partner's touches, but eventually she gave up…she finally decided that rather than attempting to interject logic into such a wonderful feeling, she simply accepted it as one of the many gifts that Booth bestowed upon her.

Booth wrapped his right arm below her ass to provide support and braced his left hand against the small of her back, protecting her from injury against the hard wall. "Baby…" he breathed into her ear, "you are amazing, you know that?" Despite the heat in the small shower stall, the warmth of his breath against her wet skin sent shivers down Brennan's body. "I love the way you feel…I love the way you taste…I love everything about you, Bones." He continued thrusting up into her as he spoke softly, directly against the shell of her ear.

"Oh God, Booth…" she let her head fall back against the wall, "don't stop…"

Booth raised his head from its slightly-bowed position and watched her with darkened eyes. He would never get enough of watching his partner as she neared the brink of shattering. Her eyes were squeezed closed, her forehead free of wrinkles, her lips, _those suckable lips_, were parted ever so slightly, through which she allowed her panting breaths to escape. He watched her throat work as she swallowed and struggled to maintain any semblance of control.

"Let go, baby… I've got you…" Booth's smooth voice reached his fiancée's ears and he leaned in, increasing both the speed with which he pounded into her and the pressure that he pressed against her torso with his own. He lowered his mouth and licked along a length of the gold chain that clung to her neck before latching onto her pale skin and suckling. The symbolism of that gold chain made Booth's cock even harder as he nipped at his girl's neck; whenever Brennan was working and wearing gloves, she removed her diamond and sapphire ring and threaded it onto the heavy gold chain, so she could continue wearing the ring, even unconventionally. He pulled back momentarily and let his eyes follow the line of the gold chain to where it was weighted down with her ring and disappeared between her beautiful, heaving breasts.

Booth was mesmerized as he studied the way that gorgeous pink flush that he knew so well spread from her cheeks down her neck and splayed across her upper chest. Knowing how close she was, Booth raised his ebony eyes back to her pleasure-filled expression and pistoned harder into her silkiness. He cradled her body lovingly in his arms…held her tight to his body…braced her against the cool wall…and the telltale evidence of his partner's impending orgasm raked through her body and then transferred to his, as he felt his balls hitch in anticipation.

"C'mon, Bones….cum for me, baby." Booth was grunting through clenched teeth, trying to stave off his own uncoiling until after she'd found her peak.

It only took two more thrusts before Brennan felt her body succumbing to her partner's gentle demand. The shock waves of her release rocked through her body as she trembled in his strong embrace. "Bo-o-o-ooth…"

His name dripped from her tongue; the rich alto timbre of her voice, and the alluring sight of his normally-composed partner shattering, combined with the vice-like grip that was squeezing his cock was all it took to pull Booth tumbling over the edge with her. He thrust forward, pressing his narrow hips against hers as he buried his throbbing dick balls-deep and exploded in white-hot streams, emptying everything he had into her willing body. "_Chrrrrrist_, Bones…." Booth growled against her neck in sweet exhaustion, darting his tongue out to taste her skin briefly before backing away slightly, to let his partner lower her legs.

"Oh my God, Booth…" Brennan panted as she continued to cling to her able-bodied fiancée, trying to get the blood flow back to her lower extremities. With a playful smile, she raised her blue-gray eyes to his handsome face. "I should let you watch me pack panties more often, Booth…"

A trade-mark toothy grin spread wide across his chiseled face as he craned his neck to kiss her. "It doesn't matter what you're doing, Bones – whether you're working or packing or sitting and watching TV – this is what you do to me…" He pressed his mouth to hers and felt her smile into the kiss.

As if on cue, the hot water started to run out, leaving the partners to be rained on by quickly-cooling water from the showerhead. Blindly, Booth reached over and cut the water completely, preferring to tolerate the cool air in the bathroom rather than the chilled water. December in Washington DC resulted in very-cold tap water and he was not willing to allow that ruin the brief afterglow of their shower romp. After an additional quick moment of nuzzling, the pair pulled apart reluctantly and exited the shower.

"We gotta get going, Bones…" Booth said softly as he wrapped his partner in a large fluffy towel before grabbing one for himself and wrapping it around his hips. He met her sleepy eyes and chuckled at her satisfied and dazed grin. Unable to resist one more hug before moving to get changed, he reached for Brennan's hands and pulled her to him, and she easily came, folding into his chest as he surrounded her in a Boothy-cocoon.

Brennan smiled against Booth's chest as she pressed into his all-encompassing embrace. Planting a kiss squarely between his sculpted pecs, she tilted her head slightly, so she could look at into his molten chocolate eyes. "Mmm…That was nice, Booth."

The agent gazed down into the clear eyes of his girl, "I promise to spend more time with you tonight, Bones… I won't be so rushed…" He kissed her forehead tenderly and hummed against her skin. "We really should get dressed. We need to hit the road."

Extracting herself from his arms, Brennan nodded and kissed Booth's chin, then turned towards the bedroom, still clutching the towel to her damp body. "Well, Booth, are you planning to just stand there watching me, or are you going to get dressed so we can leave?" She threw an impish grin over her shoulder in his direction and he shoved away from the vanity and followed her out of the bathroom and towards the closet so they could dress to leave.

B/B/B/B

The check-in and wait at the airport were _relatively_ uneventful. Brennan, always reluctant to sit in the economy class, as the FBI tends to book, paid for upgrades to first class for them both. Booth argued that it cast too much money for the short flight, but she insisted in doing so; and once Temperance Brennan decides to do something, it pretty much gets done. She _did_ offer, however, to leave Booth seated where he was and she would move to first class on her own…Needless to say, that didn't happen and soon Booth was booked in a first-class aisle seat alongside his partner's window reservation. The partners used the time in the first-class waiting lounge to review the few case notes as Booth had received them. They sat in a quiet corner at a high table, sipping drinks as they talked.

"But Booth," Brennan interrupted his sentence, "if the professors and students are banned from the Facility, they are going to lose the opportunity to gain valuable data on the legitimate bodies. The students who are conducting their studies need that information in order to complete their course programs." Brennan grabbed an almond from the bowl that sat between them and cut Booth off once more as she continued to defend anthropology students she hadn't even met. "Decomposing bodies go through myriad changes on a constant basis, Booth, and these developments need to be monitored and recorded. Depending on the method of disposal used for a corpse, which is an important factor studied at the Facility, time frames will vary regarding even the most basic occurrences as maggot and other insect activity and gastrointestinal reactions to the environment, as well as - -"

"Bones," Booth grabbed her hand, "stop." He was looking around at a few fellow-flyers who were waiting in the lounge as they all turned their heads in the direction of the rambling scientist. Many of their faces were contorted with disgust at Brennan's mention of corpses and maggots. He smiled sheepishly at one particular well-dressed businessman and nodded, calling over to him, "Sounds like a great book, doesn't it? Heh…" he laughed nervously as he turned back to his partner, pinning her with a dark glare. "Bones!" he hissed as he leaned into her personal space, "you can't go spouting off about dead bodies and maggots in a public place like this! People don't like it!"

"Death is a fact of life, Booth, people should all realize that." She glanced around the room, meeting the accusatory gazes of the many people scattered around the room. After doing a quick mental calculation, she turned back to Booth. "Statically speaking, 87 percent of the people in this room are going to die in such a way that it will require the expertise of anthropologists like me or pathologists like Cam to determine the exact cause of death, if not for the purpose of merely identifying their remains."

"Bones….please…" Booth interrupted her again, propping his head up on his raised hand, cradling his forehead as he glanced sideways towards a table of women who got up and moved clear across the other side of the room.

Never one to be swayed from her train of thought when there was a point to be made, Brennan pushed on. "Their bodies will be so far desiccated and decomposed that they will be initially unrecognizable. A forensic artist like Angela will be employed in order to reconstruct the facial features and help put a name to the partially putrefied or skeletonized skull. Entomologists like Dr. Hodgins will be brought in on the case to help determine time of death based on the size of the feeding maggots or the presence of later-arriving insects like flesh-eating Carrion Beetles."

After noticing yet another evacuation of a nearby group of passengers, Booth finally dropped his head to the table in exasperation, groaning at both the pain involved with landing forehead-first on the granite tabletop as well as the knowledge that his girlfriend still lacked the filter required to stop from talking so graphically while in public.

Brennan wrinkled her brow immediately, forming her trademark little 'V' between her eyebrows. "Booth? Are you alright? Are you sick?" She rested her hand on her partner's broad shoulder and dipped her head to try to see his face as it rested on the table, effectively placing her ear to the table and her nose inches from his face, so she could attempt to make eye contact. "Are you tired? Perhaps we should not have made love in the shower, knowing that we had no time to nap afterwards…"

Her questions were so innocent, and her mind switched to his well-being from a hypothetical crime or death scene involving 87 percent of their fellow first-class patrons so quickly that Booth had to chuckle in disbelief; the gentle sound was muffled by the shiny black surface on which he rested. He turned his head and raised his eyes in her direction, meeting her gaze. Booth then reached behind her head, palming her nape and pulled her the rest of the way to where his head laid, and he pressed his lips to hers fully.

Booth broke their kiss and grinned at her as he slowly sat upright. "Bones…no," he huffed a laugh, "I am not tired…_Believe_ me, if we'd had more time to spend at home, I would have taken more time with you in our bed…I didn't need a nap…" He met her confused look and grinned; he knew she didn't understand his exasperation about her tangent. "Just….please stop talking about corpses while we're surrounded by _normal_ people…" He smiled and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She had pulled her hair into a high ponytail for the trip, but some of her stubborn tresses refused to stay confined in the band she used.

She sat back and eyed her partner cautiously. "You're saying I'm not…_normal_? _We're_ not normal?" She wasn't sure how to take his comment – was it an insult that she didn't understand or a compliment to her intelligence…?

Seeing that he may have insulted his most-favorite person in the world, Booth smiled and reached for her cheek, trailing his forefinger along her sharp features. "You're better than normal, baby. You're a friggin' genius…and I'm just lucky enough to be your partner."

His praise obviously pleased her, but she paused, "Booth, you're not lucky…You're the best in your field, so it only goes to reason that I would have chosen the best to be my partner…."

Her smugness made him chuckle, but before he could reply, their flight was called. The partners gathered their carry-on luggage from their feet and exited the lounge, much to the delight of many of the other passengers waiting for their respective flights. Many of them looked at each other, rolling their eyes and wrinkling their noses at the corpse-conversation to which they'd been exposed. The few people who were about to share their flight with Booth and Brennan grumbled, jokingly asking those around them for luck over the next couple of hours.

The pair proceeded to the ticket counter, turning over their boarding passes to gain admittance to their flight, outwardly oblivious to the stares following them. Regardless of the fact that Brennan didn't know people were watching them, Booth was _completely_ aware of every scrutinizing gaze tossed in the direction of his partner. Some were looks of wonder, having been party to hearing the woman ramble on about dead bodies and carrion beetles, and others were gazes of admiration at her sheer beauty. When Booth caught one guy staring a little too long at his attractive and unaware fiancée, he pinned the passenger with a darkened gaze, silently threatening the man to back off. The well-built, but much-smaller guy took the hint, noticing the possessive hand that Booth rested on Brennan's lower back, and averted his gaze until Booth and Brennan had passed, following the few other first-class passengers onto the jet-way.

**Postscript A/N **

**I can SO hear Brennan acting like that in the waiting room… Poor Booth, he really has his hands full... LOL**

**What did you think? Please leave me a review and let me know! **

**Peace & love my friends, **

**~jazzy **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Welcome back! I apologize for the delay in posting, but real life threw me some curve balls these past couple weeks, and they interfered with my writing time! **

**First of all, let me thank you all for reading and following my story! I really appreciate it! **

**I wanted to address "Guest's" concern in a review that said I talked about myself too much, and talked too much about Tusker in chapter one. I am sorry you felt this way, and I'm sorry to do this in an A/N, but since you didn't sign in to take ownership of the complaint, I couldn't respond to you directly. Stories have different characters, and those characters have to be introduced in order to move the storyline forward in a cohesive manner (much like you're going to see in this chapter). Those times when various characters are introduced into a setting, it is necessary to offer insight to characters themselves – whether it is their thought-process, their history and experiences or their observations. My writing style is such that I feel it's necessary to properly introduce these characters – regardless of whether or not it is a human or a dog. That's just how I write. I'm sorry if you find it redundant or uninteresting. Now, onto the second complaint – that I talked too much about myself. I didn't feel that I did so in chapter one, which is the chapter for which you left the now-moderated review. In subsequent A/N's, I did talk more about myself, in direct response to questions or comments I received – usually from others who didn't sign in, therefore I was unable to respond directly to them in a PM. There's a purpose for everything I write, I don't just type words to fill time and space. I have too many other things going on in my life to waste time. That said, if you felt that there would have been a more appropriate or concise way of saying the things I did, then, please - I welcome *constructive* criticism. **

**Now, on to this chapter… Welcome to chapter 5! This is a chapter to simply move us forward. Not a lot happens, with the exception of introducing some players who will be key components to the story later, or making repeated appearances. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones or its characters, nor do I have any rights to the Anthropology Research Facility. But this story line is all mine! **

The flight from DC to Knoxville was just under two hours, but the first-class service still managed to serve light meals to their passengers, much to Booth's delight. Although he was never a fan of airplane food, there was a big difference between first-class and economy, which, according to Brennan, Booth would be experiencing more often, now that they were an official couple. The anthropologist quickly squelched her partner's objections to the extravagance, explaining that she did not enjoy flying economy, and as long as she had the means, they would be flying the way _she_ wanted, regardless of what he thought; to Brennan it was a matter of comfort, and she felt it was worth the extra money. After hashing out their disagreement over flight preferences, and agreeing to disagree on principles, Booth proceeded to eat his meal and half of Brennan's, before settling back into his soft seat and snaking his arm around his girl.

Pulling her close to his left side, Booth pressed a kiss into her hair. "Thanks for the jell-o, Bones," he smiled, "and for the other half of your mac n cheese; though it wasn't nearly as good as your recipe." He felt her cheek rise into a smile as she was pressed against his shoulder and he knew she appreciated the compliment. "Are you sure you don't want something else? Maybe they can bring you another salad or something? Or fruit?"

Brennan raised tired eyes to her partner and smiled. "I'm fine, Booth. What I ate was plenty. I don't have a bottomless stomach like the one you apparently possess." She stifled a grinning yawn, ducking her head into the crook of his neck in hopes of hiding it, but she was too late.

"It's not bottomless," he retorted in good humor. "Close your eyes for a little bit, Bones. We have almost an hour before we land, you can catch a nap." He pulled her discarded jacket back over her torso to give her a little cocoon to hide in for a bit, and he felt her nod against his shoulder.

"I don't know why I got so tired all of a sudden, Booth. Maybe it's a result of all the recycled air circulating through the cabin of this airplane. Thinking about the filtering systems on these planes, it's highly probable that the air is not as clean as they claim it to be. In fact…."

Booth snickered and brought his fingers to her lips gently, "I don't need a science lesson, baby… Whatever the reason, just close your eyes. Relax." He palmed her hip beneath her improvised blanket and hummed in approval of the way she managed to conform to his body, even in an inconvenient airline seat. Brennan turned slightly so she sat with her shoulder pressed into the seatback and her head on Booth's shoulder. She pulled her legs up and curled them in front of her, so they were propped against Booth's body. He was still surprised at how small his partner could make herself when she really wanted to. He mused momentarily about how perfectly they fit together, physically…like two pieces of a puzzle. Once he felt that she was done shuffling, he craned his head down to look at her face.

"Comfortable?" He smiled when he recognized the contented look on her face.

She nodded, "Mmm-hmm," she tucked her arms between them and sighed in appreciation that her fiancée not only had an extremely soothing demeanor, but he also radiated warmth – and in that moment, with a chill that she couldn't shake, she was extremely grateful for his body heat.

Rubbing large circles across her back, Booth felt Brennan sink into sleep. He pressed a kiss into her hair and lolled his head back against the pillowed rest, turning his eyes towards the darkened window. His eyes zeroed in on their shadowed reflection in the multi-layered Plexiglass. Booth studied the outline of his partner as she rested, curled against his body; his vision followed the line of his arm that cradled her protectively and possessively, and the way it curved around his lover's body; finally, he caught the image of his own face staring back at himself. Of course, the night sky that backed mirror-like surface provided a distorted likeness of himself, but he was still able to identify the undeniable peace he experienced when he was with this woman – it was written all over his face, _metaphorically speaking_, he mused.

"Sir?" A quiet voice interrupted his contemplation and he rolled his head in the direction of the aisle, arching in eyebrow in response.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we'll be landing in about forty minutes, and I just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything else you or your wife needed?"

Booth smiled at the assumption, unconsciously tightening his hold on the woman tucked into his side. It wasn't the first time someone had made the supposition that the partners were married, even before they were together. Now that they were finally official, however, it was only a matter of time before it would no longer be a mistake for a stranger to refer to Brennan as his wife. He met the flight attendant's eyes with a gentle grin, "No, we're fine. Thank you, though."

"Alright, sir. Can I go ahead and take your trash, then?" She gestured to the small collection of paper and napkins they'd piled on Brennan's lowered tray and Booth started to reach for it, careful to not jostle the snoozing woman wrapped in his arm. The friendly woman motioned for him to stop, "No, no, I can reach it. Don't wake her," she stretched her arm carefully across the distance and gathered the few pieces, nodding politely at her client in the process. "I'll let you know when you should start to wake her, sir," she stood back up to her full height, placing the trash in her bag. "Let me know if there's anything else…" She turned then, towards the folks across the aisle from Booth and continued greeting the other passengers.

Booth felt Brennan's body stir ever so slightly and he brought his other hand up to her cheek, palming her carefully, "Shh…" he spoke softly against her silky hair. Brennan responded in her light slumber with a sleepy mewl, and nuzzled her face against his neck. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of her head, hoping to squeeze in a fifteen- or twenty-minute catnap in before they landed.

B/B/B/B

"Look, Bones, just help me find the hotel, ok? We can sight see tomorrow…" He glanced around while they were stopped at the red light, catching sight of a mob of tourists rushing to beat the 'No Walk' sign that would stop them from crossing in front of their rented SUV. He turned his eyes back to his bright-eyed partner as she sat in her seat, practically oozing anticipation at finally reaching Knoxville. "What's the name of the hotel again?"

"It's not _actually_ a hotel, Booth. It's more of a Bed and Breakfast…" she replied hesitantly, knowing that he had no idea what she'd done…

"What do you mean _Bed and Breakfast_? The FBI doesn't put us up in B-n-B's, Bones…"

"I know…" she turned to face him as they continued to wait for the slew of oncoming traffic making right turns at the light. "Charlie had us booked in a room at some chain-hotel Express or something…" she wrinkled her nose at the mere idea of staying at a lower-budget place on their first out-of-town case since her kidnapping. "I called and cancelled and re-booked someplace more acceptable; on my expense budget, of course…" She said the sentence so quick that if he wasn't listening carefully, he may have missed some of the words that were slurred together.

He cocked an eyebrow in her direction… "A bed-n-breakfast…" The light chose that moment to turn green and Booth pressed the accelerator. "Alright, whatever…Just what the hell is it called and what's the address?"

Brennan smiled when he didn't argue and she pointed forward. "It should be just up another two blocks, on the south side of the street. It's called Ramsey's Inn and Loft." Brennan started bouncing in her seat, "OH, Booth! Look!" She turned to face him as he continued looking forward, careful of the congestion surrounding them. When she realized he didn't see what she had seen, she gave him a hard glare.

Sensing that he was getting the stink-eye from his girl, he smirked, "Bones, I can't look over there and at the traffic, baby…What did you see?" He signaled to switch lanes, seeing the sign for their lodging just ahead.

Realizing that he was, in fact, trying to concentrate on keeping them safe, she sat back slightly and smiled impishly. "There was a country music bar back there…"

Apparently he was missing something, because based on her tone of voice, she was _excited_ about the bar, but neither of them listened to country music, so Booth was in the dark. "Bones, we're in _Tennessee_…There are going to be country bars all over the damn place… Hell, we're in a college town, there are gonna be all kinds of bars around here." He pulled into the small parking lot, choosing a spot close to the door and turned to face his partner with a questioning look, waiting for an explanation.

"Remember how much fun we had at that country bar in Washington? You know, the first year we were officially partners and went out to investigate the hand that was eaten by the bear?" Her eyes glittered and gleamed with happy memories and anticipation as she waited for him to join in her enthusiasm.

Booth huffed, "You wanna know what I remember about that night, Bones?" He leveled a dark look in her direction. "I remember having to stop myself from shooting _every_ man in that place for staring at my partner a little too hard. I remember having to worm my way onto that dance floor in order to stop yet _another_ guy from _pawing_ at you with the pretense of wanting to 'show the good doctor a nice time while in town', while they were really just pressing you for case information while trying to cop a feel." He killed the ignition and leaned across the center console, tilting his head to the side as he looked deep into her eyes, his gaze softening. "I remember the way you felt in my arms as we danced… I remember the way your hair smelled…" He leaned forward and spoke against her lips as she met him half way. "I remember how badly I wanted to kiss your neck when I dipped you…"

She smiled against his mouth. "You can kiss my neck whenever you want, now…" Her throaty alto voice spoke more to Booth's groin than to his intellect or reasoning. "You can kiss _anything_ now, Booth…" She pulled back playfully and exited the truck, "C'mon…Let's go check-in."

The privately owned Inn was decorated elegantly for Christmas, which pleased Booth immensely and was indifferent to Brennan. As Brennan approached the desk to complete paperwork, she noticed that Booth wandered from her side to check out the sitting room. When she turned back to face the young woman behind the desk, Brennan felt her alpha-female traits boil to the surface as the much-too-young strawberry blonde let her eyes roam over the strong body of _Her Booth,_ as the Agent retreated into the adjoining common-room. This lady, _this girl_, wore a nametag indicating that she went by the name _Mimi_ and when Brennan cleared her throat, _Mimi_ jumped at the interruption and turned back to the Anthropologist, unable to hide the bright red blush blooming across her cheeks.

"I am Dr. Temperance Brennan. I believe you should have my name in your little book over there…" Brennan's voice dripped with immediate disdain and dislike for the person standing behind the counter. When the woman paused while reading the reservation, Brennan saw that she struggled to hide a grin. "Is there a problem, _Mimi_?"

Once again startled, Mimi raised her eyes, "No ma'am; no problems. Uh, sorry." She smiled as she placed some papers in front of the guest and handed her a pen. "Would you please fill in these forms and sign here," she flipped to the second page, "and here." The smile she flashed at Brennan was saccharine sweet and her hazel eyes flashed as the Inn's second guest made his way back into the reception area.

"Bones, you should see that living room… Big screen TV, surround sound, leather lounge chairs… Whew!" Booth was obviously looking forward to their stay and the prospect of maybe watching a game in that theater-like living room. He sidled up beside her, just barely acknowledging the petite girl eyeing him as he approached. "Maybe we can even watch a movie or two in there while we're here."

Smiling as she completed filling out the forms, Brennan didn't raise her eyes to her partner, but smiled and bumped against his shoulder instead. "We'll see, Booth…"

Interrupting the quiet discussion, Mimi piped up. "Well, the two of you are the only guests for the week, so the sitting room will be at your disposal, Mr…" she raised her eyebrow and extended her open palm for a handshake.

Raising his dark brown eyes to finally meet the woman's gaze, he took her hand loosely. "Booth. _Agent_ Booth."

She smiled when he grasped her hand and she tightened her hold on his ever so slightly, but he pulled away uncomfortably and turned his body towards the woman at his side. "So, you, uh, about done here, Bones?" His hushed tone of voice indicated that he was in a hurry, and she assumed her partner was in a rush to get upstairs in order to continue what they'd started in the truck.

She grinned and placed the pen back on the counter, pushing the forms back towards _Mimi_ as she turned to face her boyfriend face on. "Mm-hmm."

Mimi pulled the forms down from the counter and gathered two keys as she came from around the reception desk, gesturing towards the staircase. "I'll show you upstairs; your rooms are just down the hall from each other, Dr. Brennan," she spoke with a sweet southern accent and started to lead the way.

Booth started to question Brennan about the plural usage of 'room', but before he could utter a word, his partner was already speaking up. "Mimi, Booth and I only require one room. We'll take the master, which, according to your website, has a full ensuite bathroom complete with garden tub and double sinks, a private sitting room and a four-poster mahogany pillow-topped king-size bed." Her voice was clear and concise, quoting the description she'd read online.

The young girl spun on her heel and stared wide-eyed at the anthropologist. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

"I _said_ that Booth and I do _not_ require _two_ rooms."

"But, Dr. Brennan, you reserved _both_ of our rooms. I assumed that meant you and your _associate_ were rooming separately…?"

"Your assumption is incorrect," once again, Brennan kept her tone curt. "My _partner_ and I will be sharing the master suite."

"But, ma'am, you just paid for both rooms for the week. I don't understand…"

"You don't need to understand, Mimi, you only need to ensure that my credit card is charged for both rooms accordingly." She forced a smile at the little red-head that she didn't like and ultimately held out her hand in a halting fashion. "In fact, you don't need to show us upstairs, I studied the layout online and I know which room is ours." Brennan turned and started up the carpeted staircase, "you can give the key to Booth. Thank you and good night, Mimi." Brennan's voice faded as she reached the upper level and Booth smirked, turning to the girl with his hand extended, palm up.

Mimi dropped the key to the master room in his large hand, trying to hide her disappointment that the sexy man staying at her family Inn was apparently _not_ single. When she noticed only two people arrive for check-in that evening, _one of them being an extremely hot, well-built man_, and neither guest wearing a wedding band, Mimi felt her heartbeat accelerate exponentially. She assumed they'd be in separate rooms… She knew the rules forbade her to fraternize with guests, and _for the most part_ she obeyed those rules. Though, even after the reprimand she received from her uncle for flirting with a guest over breakfast six months ago, she had been willing to chance it once again…There was something about the way the man, this Agent Booth, walked – the way he carried himself – the confident air – his strong profile…

"Partners…?" Mimi's disappointed tone of voice was evident.

Booth smirked as he bent over to pick up his suitcase. "Good night, Mimi," he said as he followed the path his girl had taken just seconds before and met her in the hallway. Unlocking the door, he glanced sideways with a grin. "What was _that_, Bones?"

Brennan squared her shoulders defiantly and stalked past her boyfriend. "I don't know what you're talking about Booth…" She walked to her side of the bed and put her bag up on the luggage rack to unpack.

He chuckled under his breath, knowing full well that she knew what he was talking about. He loved it when Temperance Brennan got 'all territorial', even when there was no real threat (because there was definitely no threat with _that_ girl). But he grinned anyway, letting it slide. "Yeah, OK, Bones." He paused and stared at the back of her head as she began to unpack her clothes. "Bones, why did you rent both rooms?"

"Well," she turned to face him. "I thought, _perhaps_, we may end up sending for Hodgins and Angela. I mean, we can do everything by satellite and express shipping if we require Hodgins' expertise, but after we look at the crime site tomorrow, we may determine a need for his presence instead." She shrugged then continued. "If not, then at the very least, we have some privacy here at the Inn rather than having to share the space with strangers."

He unpacked his bag as she spoke, filling the bed side drawer with incidentals. "That sounds good, Bones…makes sense." He gathered his suits and moved to hang them up. "So, did you want to check out that country bar tonight, Bones?" he called out from the walk-in closed that was as big as his bathroom.

When she didn't answer, he strolled back out into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth going instantly dry. There, lying sprawled out across the plush king-size bed, was his partner, looking like a pin-up girl – _only better_. This pin-up girl was for his eyes only, and he felt himself harden immediately. "I guess that's a 'no'…" He approached her slowly, letting his eyes take in the skimpy little teal-green number that was useless for anything other than adding a splash color against her milky skin.

"Not tonight, Booth…" she pushed herself up so she was half laying/half sitting on her side. "I believe you have a promise to make good on tonight." She grabbed her fiancée and pulled him to her, covering his mouth with hers before she rolled him beneath her, so she could straddle his hips.

And make-good on that promise, he did… He made up for taking her so quickly in the shower before they left home; he made up for asking her to stop talking in the airport lounge; hell, he even made up for the little girl downstairs gawking at him – although technically, he had nothing to do with it…

B/B/B/B

The closer they got to the Forensic Research Facility, the more excitement Booth could feel radiating from his partner. He peeked in her direction from the corner of his eye and chuckled. Normally, he'd be tired at 6:00am after such a _full_ night of activities, but he'd slept so soundly in the extra-plush bed that when they'd finally fallen into a sleepy stupor following their late night of exquisitely slow love-making, Booth was certain he hadn't moved. They fell asleep in a spooning position and he woke in the same exact spot, he simply tightened his arm around Brennan's waist pulling her back against him tighter.

"You're excited, aren't you…"

"I know that we're about to face an obviously violent crime, but…yes…I am looking forward to seeing the research under study at this time." She struggled to hide her grin and finally just let it shine bright. "I emailed Dr. Bass yesterday and advised him that I was going to be in town. But I don't know if I will have the opportunity to meet with him. I received an Out Of Office auto-reply." She shrugged slightly, but immediately smiled again at seeing the entrance looming ahead.

Booth nodded as he maneuvered the rental down the crowded road leading to their destination; cop cars and FBI-issued black SUVs lined either side of the street, their occupants watching the partners with curiosity as they passed. "Now, Bones, you gotta remember, Cullen asked us, _as a favor_, to keep our personal relationship on the down-low. The local director is a little worried about being inundated by requests from some of his teams, asking for permission to take their partnership further. Until they get to know us, we should just play it cool."

He pulled into a parking spot close to the guarded gate and turned to face Brennan. She was nodding as she looked around, and then turned back to him. "Should we fight?" Her question was a little too eager and had a hint of giddiness to it.

He looked at her as if she was nuts. "What? Why would we fight?"

"Well, there were many times in our early partnership that we argued at crime scenes; usually because you were being arrogant, pushy and impatient." Her matter-of-fact tone made him chuckle.

"No, Bones. We don't need to argue-"

She cut him off, "but Booth, it would be like going undercover…" Her eyes gleamed. "We could fool anyone who would think we were a couple and at the same time, we can practice faux personalities."

Booth was certain her enthusiasm at being at the 'Body Farm' was overriding her normally-logical brain. He stared at her with a blank expression. "No. No arguments, no fights, no fake personalities…just Bones and Booth, _partners-extraordinaire_." He popped open his door. "C'mon, let's go see what the rookie cadaver-dog uncovered."

She hopped out of the truck and met her partner at the back, gathering her miniature field equipment bag, which she'd decided to pack at the last minute, just in case the bulk of her lab equipment wasn't brought over by the Knoxville forensics team. (Brennan was unsure of the competency of the local team, and thought she better have a back-up plan and tools).

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan?" A tall, slender man approached the partners as Booth closed the back hatch.

Extending his hand, Booth nodded. "Yes sir, Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Alan Kingsley, Knoxville Field Office Director. I can't tell you how much I appreciate having your expertise here for this case. I've heard nothing but praise about your work." As he extended his hand to the anthropologist, Kingsley was caught off guard at how striking the woman was. He was not expecting a female scientist who dealt with dead bodies day in and day out to be such a _beautiful_ woman. He knew, thanks to Cullen, that the partners were more than 'just partners,' so he tried to keep his staring to a minimum, but apparently didn't succeed because he suddenly felt the unmistakable presence of the imposing DC Agent closing in.

Not picking up on the tension emanating from Booth at the Directors attention to her, Brennan shook his hand firmly and pinned him with a baffled look. "Well, I would expect nothing less, Director. I _am_ the best in my field. That's why I won't work with anyone other than Booth; he's the best in his field. Why would anyone say anything other than praise about our work?"

Booth lowered his gaze to the dirt settling on the toes of his shoes, hiding a grin in the process. Kingsley burst out laughing, "I've also heard that you don't suffer from the burden of modesty – I guess that was also true." He looked at the Agent and noticed the smirk he was struggling to contain. "Please, come this way, I'll show you where the body parts are located." He led the partners through a gate, pointing out to Booth various local agents who may be of some assistance to the while they were in town.

Booth fell into step beside Brennan, his right hand resting on the small of her back, as usual. More than once, he had to use that hand to steer her in the direction they needed to go; she kept wandering from the path, drawn towards various mock-death scenes along the way.

"Booth, look!" She pointed excitedly towards an uncovered corpse lying in a muddy patch of land. The ground surrounding the 'victim' showed evidence of the snow that fell overnight, but the immediate ground near the body and the body itself showed no evidence of the frozen precipitation. "This is an example of a body that has been dumped in a shallow swamp or marsh. And look at how the snow has gathered on the blades of grass near the grave, but none on the mud or the body. This body has only been here between, I would estimate, eight and twenty-two days. Taking into account the unusually cool temperatures this part of the state has been experiencing lately, I would lean towards this victim being placed in this setting approximately seventeen days ago, but he likely died 36-48 hours before being transferred to this location." Her cheeks were rosy, and it wasn't because of the temperature she had just referred to; it was because she was alive with excitement, albeit morbid in Booth's opinion.

"Yeah, that's great, Bones. C'mon, let's get moving; Kingsley is waiting." Booth motioned over his shoulder to where the Knoxville Director stood patiently waiting for the partners to catch up once more.

"No, Booth. Don't you understand? The body is emitting heat, or rather the insect activity is _producing_ heat, which caused the fallen snow to melt on and around the body." She pointed to the area circling the deceased volunteer. "If the temperatures had been warmer, you could expect the flesh to be further decomposed, especially given the wet setting in which he was placed."

"Yeah, Bones. I get it." He nodded patiently, but was innately impatient to get to the real reason they were at the 'Body Farm.' "But, we're not here to look at experiments, are we? We are here to determine what happened to the poor soul who's been cut up into seventeen different parts, and to determine if it's even one person or more? Or if there are pieces missing…." He eyed the small gathering of armed onlookers that had slowly started to crowd in around them. Catching the attention of one local Agent, he smiled hesitantly, "she's, uh, just practicing…." Turning back to his partner, he ducked his chin. "C'_mon_, Bones…"

Completely oblivious to the strange stares of which she was on the receiving end, Brennan looked up to her partner with a crooked smile as she ambled back onto the dirt path. "I would very much like to see the records for that body, to confirm my initial findings. Even without my touching or closely examining the remains, I am certain that you will find my estimated time of death and disposal to be accurate."

"Again, that's great…But we have work to do…" He placed his open palm against her back once more and began ushering her down the trail.

"OOH! Booth, look!" Her hand darted out across his chest, pointing in the direction of yet another decaying body. She started to stray, like she was being pulled by an invisible force towards the partially buried body across the field.

"_Jesus_, Bones!" Booth rolled his eyes and grabbed her bicep gently, but firmly, pulling her back to his side. "We'll never get to Q-7 at this rate. You _cannot_ stop and examine every body we pass." He spoke through clenched teeth and ignored the snickers he heard coming from behind them. He knew that many of the KPD officers and FBI agents on site were following them, undoubtedly curious to see the famous Dr. Temperance Brennan in action. Booth was certain, however, that none of them expected the child-like exuberance currently on display by his normally poised and professional-almost-to-a-fault partner. The gathering of law enforcement professionals on their tail was witness to a very unique side of His Bones. Booth'd been expecting this kind of behavior from Brennan; he recalled the last visit they'd had to a Body Decomp Study location, as Fisher had taken to calling it. He was certain he would never forget the squeal of joy that erupted from his partner when the body they'd happened upon chose that precise moment to explode.

Finally catching up with Kingsley, Booth nodded and muttered something resembling an apology on behalf of the scientist at his side. The Director had been well informed by Cullen that Booth often had to bail the prettier half of the partnership out of trouble when she misunderstood a common phrase or spoke of something inappropriate; but Cullen _didn't_ warn him that Brennan would be so…_happy_ to be surrounded by rotting bodies. He met the visiting Agent's apologetic eyes with an amused look and turned to continue on their little journey to the farthest quadrant of the facility.

Seeing Booth's muddled smile, Brennan ducked her head in his direction. "What are you smirking about, Booth?"

"Nothin', Bones. Just happy to see you smiling like that…" He winked conspicuously and came to a stop when they reached the piece of land riddled with little flags flapping in the wind.

Brennan looked around and spotted the team she surmised was the FBI Forensics team surrounding her boxes of equipment. Taking immediate control of the scene, Brennan switched approaches and launched into investigative-mode. She removed her winter trench coat, handed it to Booth and shoved her hands into her jumpsuit pockets to pull out rubber gloves. "Keep people back, Booth," she mumbled as she stalked forward, approaching the first little flag with caution.

Booth admired his partner as she moved towards her destination and through his peripheral vision, he saw a man from the forensics team start to walk in her direction. Knowing how much his partner hated people messing about with her crime scenes until she was ready, (especially teams with whom she was unfamiliar), he turned to stop the man's progress. Holding one hand out in his direction, he tossed Brennan's trench coat over his shoulder. "Whoa, how ya doin' there, pal?" Booth kept one eye on his girl and the other on the mass of official spectators that had assembled in the area.

"No need to get all worked-up, Big Guy," the small-framed man looked up at Booth, his thick Tennessee accent causing his words to come across as snide. "I'm just gonna go on over there and give the good doctor a hand. I'm Forensics Specialist Agent Rice, head of Forensics here at K-ville." The man thrust his hand at Booth, anxious to get on the imposing agent's good side, in hopes to further get into good graces with the famous author.

"Yeah, well, Rice, Dr. Brennan doesn't really like assistance from people she doesn't know. Best to let her do her 'thing' and when she's ready for help, she'll let us know." He spotted another person getting dangerously close to the invisible boundary Booth always worked to keep clear when they were working with unfamiliar staff. "Leave 'er alone for now," he spoke to Rice while eyeing the KDP Officer stepping even further into the 'off-limits' zone. "Uh, 's'cuse me." He strode over to the Officer, pulling out his note cards and jotting down Rice's name and position for future reference.

As the new unknown moved forward, Booth picked up his pace, jogging over to the man, who appeared to be about his age and slightly larger through the shoulders. "Hey, buddy. Where ya headin'?" He stood between the stranger and his partner, instinctually feeling protective and possessive of the woman now squatting over the third flag.

"No lady should have to face such horror on her own, Agent," the officer flashed a fake-innocent smile, trying to feign interest in Brennan's well-being versus interest in Brennan – period. "I'd hate for the little lady to have a nightmare after seeing such sights. I'm gonna just go keep her company."

"No you're not, Officer. Bones doesn't like company when she's working. Who are you?" Booth was ready to make notes, but the man was now looking at him like he was crazy.

"I'm not going to keep the bones company, I'm goin' to keep the lady company," he arched an eyebrow and Booth huffed in response.

"I _know_ what you're planning to do, and my _Partner_ doesn't like to have people hovering while she's concentrating. Believe me - I'm trying to protect you from embarrassment. Again, I ask, what's your name?"

"Officer Anthony Davis, Knoxville PD. And you are?" The Officer felt defensive at being questioned by the out-of-towner who obviously had a watch-dog syndrome over his partner.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, Head of Major Crimes in DC. We were called in for this case, but you already knew that, didn't you?" Booth met the man's challenge with confidence and justified arrogance; he didn't like the way this guy was checking out his partner.

"Well," Davis leaned in, as if sharing a secret, "word has it that _she_ was called in for this case and _you_ just came along so as to waste taxpayers' money."

Booth leaned in as if in response to Davis' motion, "yeah, well, we're Partners; you want one, you get us both. We only work with each other – and as a result we have the highest solve rate in FBI history…" He straightened up once more, squaring his shoulders. "And I'm telling you, Dr. Brennan doesn't need you 'keeping her company.' If you bother her, I won't be responsible for what she does to you…"

Booth's arm shot out to his left, stopping yet _another_ agent from stepping forward and invading his fiancée's comfort zone. He rolled his eyes, thinking that it was gonna be an ass-long day if Bones didn't hurry the hell up with her preliminary examination. "Hold it, pal. Where are _you_ going?" He was already growing frustrated at seeing a familiar spark of interest in this guy's eyes as well, when he was looking at Brennan.

"Welcome to Knoxville, Agent! I was just gonna head on over and offer the little lady a cup of hot coffee." The younger man held up a steaming cup, as if _that_ was actually going to get him past the guard dog.

_What the hell is up with 'the little lady' phrase?_ "Tell you what, you give _me_ that cup of coffee, which will keep _me_ in a fair mood; you leave my partner alone until _she_ calls for assistance, at which time we will bring in the help she requests." He stepped backwards and spread his arms wide to gain the attention to the wide audience they'd gathered. _Jesus,_ he thought, _it's like they've never seen a scientist in action_ – _or maybe they just haven't seen a scientist like __her__ in action_… "Alright people, can I have your attention please!?" He swept his eyes left, then right, and finally left again. "I need to ask you all to keep a respectable distance from my partner while she conducts her preliminary inspection. She prefers to work uninterrupted until-"

"What the HELL do you think you're doing?" Brennan's irate voice rose on the cold winter-morning-air. "Get away from my remains!"

Booth spun on his heels and pinned Agent Rice with a hard stare as the man scrambled backwards, trying to get out of the path of one Pissed-Off-Dr-Brennan, as she pushed up from her squatting position over the fifth flag and stalked over to where Rice was taking photos by Flag Number Two. Booth walked briskly over to Rice, blocking the man's retreat from behind.

"Hey!" Brennan pointed at the Forensic Specialist. "I asked you a question! What the hell are you doing? I didn't call for photos yet! You've _contaminated_ my crime scene! Booth, remove this man from _my_ site!"

Anyone witnessing the outburst may have interpreted Brennan's statement as "remove this man from my _sight_," but Booth knew she meant "_site_." Brennan _owned_ crime scenes when she was examining remains for the first time, especially when they were like this particular crime. He placed a firm hand on the man's shoulder and turned him slightly. "Didn't I tell you to just let her do her _thing_ without interruption?"

Another eruption rang through the early morning air. "Catalogue his DNA, Booth! He _contaminated_ my crime scene!"

Booth turned to his see his partner marching in their direction, her fists balled at her sides and her jaw clenched tight at she pinned the smaller man with an irate glare. Booth raised his hand in an attempt to halt her arrival. "Bones, his DNA will be on file, just simmer down, huh?"

"_Don't you tell me to simmer down!_ That man could have left trace particles of his own genetic material behind! He could have carried an important piece of evidence away on the soles of his shoes! His carelessness may have jeopardized our investigation, Booth!" Her voice was not only increasing in volume as her ire grew, but her normally rich-alto tone rose an octave and when she stopped in front of her partner, who had, by the way, positioned himself between her impending approach and the _incompetent_ Agent Rice.

"OK, Bones. His DNA information will already be on file, he's an agent…" He placed his hands on her biceps and managed to nudge her back ever so slightly, so that she was not quite in his face and threatening to move past him to kill his Knoxville 'brother-in-arms.' Wanting to redirect her attention, he lowered his head so he was looking straight into her eyes, while still trying to give off the image of being 'just partners' to the fairly large crowd who'd remained frozen in place, watching the whole scene unfold. "So, Bones, what have you determined so far?"

Darting her eyes between the deep chocolates of her lover and the sheepish man she could see over Booth's shoulder, she finally settled her gaze back on Booth. "I have completed preliminary in situ examinations on five of the dismembered body parts: both feet, one hand, one ulna and one patella," she cocked her head slightly, "that's a knee cap."

"Yeah, Bones, I know what a patella is; I've been working with you for eight years…there are a few things that I actually managed to retain…" He flashed a crooked smile, letting her know he was trying to lighten her formality with him.

Bowing her head momentarily, Brennan raised her eyes once more. "I know, Booth. I'm sorry." She took a deep breath before she continued. "From the little bit of information I've gathered thus far, I feel comfortable telling you that I believe our victim is female, but I have no way of determining age yet; although I am confident that she was of small stature, based on the size of her feet and the daintiness of her hand." Glancing over her fiancée's shoulder, she noticed that Rice had slinked back towards his co-workers and they all seemed to be joking with him about something, but she was not able to hear what they were saying.

Booth turned slightly to see what had caught her attention and saw one of Rice's teammates shove his shoulder playfully and Booth thought he heard the older man accuse Rice of getting a verbal ass-whooping by the 'pretty little lady scientist.' He turned back to his partner, grateful that she obviously hadn't heard the 'pretty little lady' part of the banter; he couldn't deal with two blow-ups back to back. Reaching back up to her arm, Booth gave a gentle squeeze, to which she immediately responded by pulling her eyes back to his. "Anything else, or is it too soon? Can you tell how long she's been buried? Race of the girl? Anything at all yet?"

"There is very little skin tissue remaining on the feet or hand, but if I _had_ to hazard a guess, _which you know I don't like doing_, I would think she is not Caucasian. But I will not risk any further hypotheses until I have had a chance to complete a more in-depth study of her remains." She glanced over her own shoulder, in the direction of the fluttering flags, and then turned back to her partner. "I am going to call Cam – I want Hodgins to come down. If I cannot depend on the professors from the University to assist me, since they are banned from the facility, then I want to have Jack here before I actually exhume the body parts from the ground."

"Bones," Booth wrinkled his forehead slightly, "you can utilize the Knoxville FBI Forensics team." He pointed behind himself. "They're all chompin' at the bit to work with you. You could tell them to jump and they'd all ask how high." He grinned when he saw the confusion on her face and before she could tell him she didn't know what that meant, he interrupted. "That just means that they would do anything that we tell them to do."

"Obviously not, Booth - that moron that you told, not ten minutes ago to leave me alone, apparently thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants…" The anger that had been dampened by her focus to details started to rise again in her chest. She called over Booth's shoulder, in the direction of Rice and the rest of the Forensics team. "Now I know why they called _us_ in! The local forensics team is led by an _idiot_!"

"Bones!" Booth growled in disapproval at her outcry. "You know, Cullen is gonna string _my_ ass up and flog me because of _your_ temper… Now, go over there and finish your exam and for Christ's sake, stop instigating arguments with the locals, huh? Don't give them any fuel to call my boss."

Her blue-green eyes flashed in a way that Booth was all-too familiar with. She was pissed that he was ordering her to do something, especially in front of other people.

"Look, Bones, give me a break, here." He lowered his voice, almost pleading with her. "This is our first case back. Let's not draw more attention than we need to, okay? Yes, that guy's an ass, but I'll bet he won't do anything like that again…" He raised a hopeful eyebrow at her and saw the resignation in her eyes when she realized he was right.

"Fine." She looked around the scene then looked back to her partner. "But I'm still calling Hodgins," her stubborn tone took on that of a pouty child, which made Booth smile gently. She reached for her jacket, which was still slung over his shoulder and rooted around in her deep pocket until she fished out her phone. "I'll ask him and Angela to come out; if we find the skull, and if it's as decomposed as the rest of the remains, I want an artist that I _know_ is capable of providing a reasonable likeness."

He let his smile grow, "Sounds good, Bones." He turned from his girlfriend slightly when he heard his name bellowed from somewhere behind. Turning to face a man obviously hesitant to approach, he heard his partner walk back towards the scene while speaking to Cam. He nodded to the Agent standing several yards away and began walking towards him. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Agent Booth, I'm Agent Noggins. I have the list you emailed about before you left DC - the list of civilian people who were cleared through our office and will be permitted access to the Facility during the investigation." The young Agent handed Booth a full page list of names. "Um…can I tell you, it's a real honor to meet you, Agent Booth…and I want you to know, that if you need anything at all, just ask. I'm your guy." The Junior Agent puffed out his chest and smiled. "I spoke with Charlie Burns, sir, and he said that sometimes you need things in a hurry – that he's usually your go-to guy back in DC…Well, I can be your guy here!" His eagerness was to be admired, and Booth recognized a lot of 'Charlie Burns' in this young man.

He nodded and smiled, "Thanks Noggins." Booth continued to read the list of people and stopped dead on one name, three-quarters the way down from the top. His eye darted up to Noggins while pointing the line in question. "Why the hell is his name on this list? Why is he going to have access to this site?"

Noggins recognized the name and answered immediately. "Oh, he's the guy the University contracted as a temporary expert. Until the students and professors are cleared of any wrong-doing in this crime, and permitted back on property, he'll be the guy recording data on the legit corpses that are under study. I guess the Anthropology Department was all up-in-arms that valuable information was going to be lost unless someone with ample skills was brought in to manages all thirty-something bodies. He's flying in from someplace overseas; should be here either later this evening or tomorrow morning." Noggins was pleased that he was able to provide a very detailed explanation to the visiting Agent, regarding the man in question. "Don't worry, sir, we've made sure everyone on this list, including him, has the appropriate amount of clearance to be here."

Booth focused on the name and felt the onset of an immediate headache, mixed with a gut-wrenching ire that he and Bones hadn't been consulted prior to the approval of this list of people. "_Fuck_…" he muttered through clenched teeth. "Just fucking _great_…"

Booth turned to face his partner, where she was once again squatting beside a flag, gingerly moving earth from where it covered another body part. He took a moment to admire her focus and diligence, and then he battled internally with the fact that she was going to be highly disturbed with this last bit of news. Turning back to Noggins, he made a decision. "Thanks again Noggins. When you hear of his arrival, make sure you contact me right away. He doesn't have to know you're doing so, but I want to know the minute his plane lands or the second he tries to gain access to this place. Got it?"

Curious about Booth's reaction, Noggins studied him for a moment, but knew better than to question the request of such a legend as Special Agent Seeley Booth; rumor had it that he did things a little 'differently', but there was no arguing with his solve rate results. "Yes, sir, I will be sure to let you know as soon as I know."

Booth thanked Noggins and turned his attention to another group of local PD that were getting a little too close to the perimeter of their scene. Shoving the list of names into his breast pocket, he stalked over to the small gathering of people, mumbling under his breath the whole time. Not only did he have to deal with officers who didn't seem to understand the way Bones worked, but now he was going to have to deal with this _asshole_ as well.

_Shit_.

**Postscript A/N**

**So, you all know who the expert is? C'mon…. you must know! **

**Please leave me a review and let me know your thoughts!**

**Peace & love my friends!**

**~jazzy**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello and welcome back! Thank you all for returning! **

**My apologies for the delay in posting, but as I said last chapter, life has been throwing me some curveballs lately, and I'm doing the best I can! In case you missed it, (because FF was having problems with sending out notices) I posted another chapter in 'Letters from Maluku' last week as well. If you didn't receive your notification, please go to my profile and check out the latest installment on that CYSHAB spin-off story. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones or any rights to UT…I own just this story! **

**And now, without further ado, we rejoin our favorite duo down on the Body Farm...**

Booth spent the next hour and a half speaking with and ascertaining which KPD Officers and FBI Agents would be of assistance on this case, and which ones were there merely out of either morbid curiosity for the unusual circumstances or simply to get a good look at the one and only Dr. Temperance Brennan in action. A good portion of that time was also spent continually fending off 'would-be good-doers' who wanted to get closer to Brennan by offering coffee, pastries, tea, a spare coat, etc... He enlisted the help of the eager Junior Agent Noggins to keep people at bay, and by the time Booth was through asking the questions at the forefront of his mind, the crowd had thinned considerably and was finally quite manageable. He sighed in relief that these guys had finally gotten it through their pig-headed brains that Brennan liked to be left alone when working; and while he was unable to display the true reason he disapproved of all the attention she was gaining, he was able to assert his alpha-protectiveness over his 'partner' well enough that the men backed off.

"Thanks for your help, Noggins," Booth nodded in gratitude to the smaller man as he reorganized his index cards by expected usefulness and resourcefulness of the contacts he'd collected. "Can I have your cell number, man?"

"Sure, Agent Booth-" Noggins reached for the outstretched pen and card when he caught the DC Agent's head shaking gently.

"Just 'Booth' is fine; you can drop the formality." Booth smiled when he saw the look of humble appreciation on Noggins' face, and then raised an eyebrow. "And I assume it's OK to address you simply as Noggins?"

"Sure…Sure that's fine. Or Eddie. Most people just call me Eddie – even at work." He shrugged indifferently as he jotted down his direct number and handed it back to Booth. "What should I call your partner?" He nodded in Brennan's direction as he spoke to the Special Agent.

"Dr. Brennan," Booth smirked. "She doesn't really permit people to call her by anything other than her proper title when she's on the job; unless it's me or the team of squints. Everyone else addresses her formally."

"Squints? What are squints, Booth?" Noggins' brow wrinkled in question of the Agent's passing statement as he waited patiently for an answer.

"They're our team from the Jeffersonian Institute… Scientists… They squint a lot while they're looking through their magnifiers and microscopes…" Booth squinted his eyes in demonstration, "it used to be kind of a derogatory name that some of the guys and I started calling them…" Booth blanched at the memory of how offended his now-friends were when they first heard the term. "But it grew on all of us, and now it's more of a _term of endearment_…" He grinned also at the memory of the first time he claimed the team to be _his_ Team of Squints, and how they reacted in like by telling another agent at a different time, 'We're Booth's team!' Booth chuckled quickly. "Anyway – the Squints may refer to her as Dr. B or Bren or Brennan, but no one else should do so." He smiled as he looked over at his girl as she was finally squatting over the final flag.

"What do you call her, Booth? Just – just curious…" Noggins wondered if he misheard the imposing agent earlier in the morning as he spoke to his partner, but he didn't want to assume anything, thinking that the name he thought he heard, _Bones_, was not a very endearing name…

"I call 'er _Bones_. You know, 'cause bones are her thing." Booth's grin broke wide across his chiseled face. "But don't let her catch you trying to call her anything other than Dr. Brennan…trust me." He winked at Noggins and started to head over towards his partner. "Talk to you later, Noggins. Thanks again for your help." He stopped at the temporary coffee-station, prepared a cup of coffee for his hard-working partner and grabbed himself a doughnut before continuing on his trek.

As he approached Brennan, she stood upright and stretched her back, hands planted firmly on her waist as she twisted slightly. "Hodgins and Angela should be here late this afternoon, Booth. They will be bringing his private plane down. I gave them the directions to the Inn and told them to call me when they arrive so we can meet. They are bringing along Mr. Abernethy, and I told Jack to arrange for his lodging at the hotel in the adjacent parking lot to the Inn where we're all staying." She bent over to pick up her binder of Entomology Information Forms, containing one form for each body part, since they were all buried separately. Gratefully, she stood back upright and accepted the outstretched foam cup of steaming caffeine as her partner extended his offering in her direction. "Thanks. My hands are freezing. It's been a while since I unearthed so many sets of remains from nearly frozen dirt." She took a sip and cringed at the bitterness before taking another longer drink.

"Yeah, it's not the best cup o' joe, but it's warm and full of pep…" Booth chuckled when he saw her reaction to the drink that would rival the US Army for some of the worst coffee in the world. "So, whatcha got so far, Bones?" He glanced over his shoulder at the much smaller gathering of people, happy that they didn't seem to be holding anyone's attention in particular.

Brennan took another sip of her coffee and handed it back to Booth to hold while she flipped to her notes. He brought the cup to his own lips and took a drink, while offering her a bite of his pastry. Once she had ascertained _through her typical wrinkled-nose scrutiny_ that it did not contain any sort of mushy fake-fruit-product, she took a nibble from the outstretched sweet without a second thought. Not realizing that they were being watched by a small group of men in the not-so-distant distance, Booth and Brennan stood close while conversing, leaning their heads towards each other almost seamlessly as they spoke.

A handsome man a year or two younger than Booth smirked and shook his head. "Do you and _your_ partner ever share a cup of coffee and a donut, Rice? Like literally share the _cup_… and the donut?" Agent Leech, one of the agents from the Knoxville Major Crimes division, joked with his buddy while eyeballing the visiting team in the distance.

"Hell, no… But then again, my partner doesn't look like _that_…" Rice chortled in response, punching Leech in the arm while looking Brennan up and down. "You guys think there's something there?" Rice questioned his colleagues, addressing his query to no one special but never taking his gaze from the partners in the distance.

Noggins answered, "That would be against FBI protocol, guys… They're _partners_." Noggins retorted. But he, too, thought it was oddly intimate interaction they were witnesses between the DC Special Agent and his scientist-partner.

Officer Davis, the Knoxville PD Officer who'd had a little verbal sparring with Booth earlier, chimed in. "Well, as we hear it, the two of them are pretty friggin' close. They flat-out _refuse_ to work with anyone else – and they get away with it… _That's_ why we got stuck with _him_ coming here to play 'guard dog' to the good Dr. B."

Noggins chuckled, "Hey Tony, don't let 'er hear you call her 'Dr. B'. Booth already warned me that unless she gives you the OK, she expects to be addressed as 'Dr. Brennan.' Only a select few can call her anything else."

Davis heard Noggins' remarks, but didn't divert his eyes from the interaction occurring between the two visiting investigators. Feeling a challenge from the young agent's warning, Davis just grinned. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that, Eddie… I'm no slouch with the women, you know…and I can't remember a woman _ever_ having a problem with a pet name _I've_ given… I just have to come up with the right one for such a… _looker_…" He muttered the only descriptive word he could think of before turning a cocky smile to his law enforcement colleague. "And truth be told, I've never met a big-city-gal who _hasn't_ been intrigued by my adorable southern accent and boyish charm; and I'm certainly not going to meet one today… I'll win 'er over, you'll see."

The guys standing in the small huddle all shared a laugh and an eye roll at the KPD Officer's smugness. Having been on the receiving end of Brennan's minor temper-tantrum earlier that morning, Rice offered his insight. "Well, Tony, if she reacts to nick names the way she reacts to someone trying to assist her by taking photographs, your perfect record might just be ancient history by the time she's done with you…" He laughed when he saw Tony puff his chest out in reaction to the challenge.

The men broke apart from their friendly banter, wishing each other a good day as they went in different directions to continue with their respective work. Noggins was heading back towards the temporary investigation headquarters, which had been set up inside one of the Facility's working offices on property, when he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Booth jogging to catch up with him, the now-empty coffee cup crushed between his fingers.

"Hey, Noggins, I need you to add three more names to your list of approved personnel: Dr. Jack Hodgins, Angela Montenegro-Hodgins and Finn Abernethy. All three will be arriving this afternoon from DC – they're part of our team from the Jeffersonian. They will have full access to the site, just as Dr. Brennan or myself would – see to it that they're on the list so no one'll give any of 'em grief."

Noggins added their names and positions, "Sure thing Boss…" His comment made Booth chuckle, because it was so reminiscent of Charlie when he was first assigned to assist Booth several years ago. Noggins looked up, "Oh, Booth…" he spoke absently as he pulled out his phone. "A little while ago, I got a text from the University professor," he started re-reading his message so he could deliver it correctly. "Their contracted guy – the one you were enquiring about earlier – won't arrive until tomorrow, mid-day. I guess there were some complications with his flight out of bum-fuck-Egypt, or wherever the hell he is, and he was not able to make it on that flight. The next flight out will bring him through Dallas before re-routing him here to Knoxville." Noggins looked up to the smirking Agent.

"That's great to know Noggins, you think you could obtain the flight details for me? You know - the flight numbers, arrival times, etc… When you get them, text me. I'd appreciate it." Booth didn't give the younger man a chance to question why Booth wanted the details, he spoke quickly and affirmatively before quickly changing the topic. "I need to make sure no one goes near the area containing the body parts." He pointed over his shoulder. "Dr. Brennan is securing the location until the arrival of Dr. Hodgins, before removing any remains. In the meantime, I'd like to set up a succession of interviews of the faculty and students who have regular access to this property. I believe Campus Patrol provided a listing of everyone who is enrolled and allowed to be here. I'd appreciate it if you could go ahead and arrange the appointments and necessary transport of everyone down at the office. Bones and I will come down to the bureau in about an hour – that should give you enough time to start the ball rolling, huh?" After receiving a nod of acceptance from Noggins, Booth continued. "Great; don't worry about rounding up Dr….." Booth referred to his notecards, "Mills from the Anthro department, Bones and I are going to head across to his office and talk to him directly; he's expecting us." He looked around and saw that his partner was finally making her way towards them, toting her field case along. "I understand his office is beneath the stadium bleachers, is that correct?"

Noggins flipped to a different page in his notebook. "Yes, sir. Office 1430-B." He looked back up at the taller Agent. "Do you know how to get over there?"

"Sure do, thanks." Booth didn't really know the way yet, but figured he'd follow signs. He allowed his attention to remain on Brennan as she joined them; a wide, proud smile spread across his face as she neared. "Noggins, this here is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute." He spared a glance to his junior counterpart before turning back to his fiancée once again. "Bones, this is Agent Eddie Noggins, Knoxville FBI; he's gonna be my 'Charlie' while we're here." Booth smiled, waiting for the inevitable contradiction to his Charlie-reference that his partner was sure to start spouting.

"Booth, your statement makes no sense…Charlie is back in DC and can hardly be of any assistance to us while we're here in Knoxville. If you need Charlie, you should send for him. As I am certain you're aware, since you just introduced us, this man's name is _Eddie. _I am sure he would appreciate being addressed by his given name rather than an inaccurate nickname you have decided to impose upon him, simply because you miss your regular FBI-appointed Junior-Agent assistant." She turned to Noggins and continued speaking without breathing – a skill that still managed to catch her partner off guard more often than not. "Agent Noggins, if you do not wish to be called 'Charlie', you need to tell Booth, so he can continue to refer to you as Eddie or Noggins. Otherwise, if you let him continue to address you in any other manner, he won't be able to break the habit. He started calling me 'Bones' over eight years ago, despite the fact that I repeatedly asked him to address me by my proper title, 'Dr. Brennan.' Unless, of course, you don't mind the nickname-"

"What? Bones, stop! I am not calling Noggins by Charlie's name, I just meant to equate him to Charlie's _position_ so you would better understand the nature of the assistance he is going to be able to provide to us while we're here…" He wrinkled his forehead. "And besides, you told me you like that I call you 'Bones.' Since when don't you like it?"

Now turning her attention fully to her partner, she smirked. "Well, I like it _now_, Booth. But you know as well as I do, that I didn't like it when you first started… I _hated_ that you called me 'Bones', and I was never shy about telling you that. But you – you have this way about you…. I don't know…. It's like you only half listen to people when they try to change your mind about something… I tried telling you that I didn't like it, but you kept saying, '_but 'Bones' is a great name! You know, because you work with bones!_'," Brennan imitated Booth's tone of voice and hand movements while speaking, causing the Agent's eyebrows to arc in surprise, but she kept talking, unaffected by his non-verbal response. "Like it was some revelation that I didn't know _why_ you were naming me Bones. I understood 'why', Booth, I simply didn't like it…" She cocked her head to the side, "But I grew to accept it, and eventually I did find that I liked having a nickname that wasn't derogatory like all the ones I had been given in school and college, and I stopped complaining…" Taking a deep breath, "so I supposed that if you want to call Eddie by Charlie's name, he may ultimately learn that he doesn't mind, but I think it would be best if you asked him which he preferred…"

Brennan and Booth turned to face Noggins – Brennan to ask about the young man's preference for nicknames, Booth to apologize for his partner's misunderstanding and subsequent rant – but both were surprised to find their 'Knoxville-Charlie' no longer standing there. Instead, they spotted him over at the coffee stand, pouring himself a cup of coffee while sheepishly glancing over his shoulders at the now-silent partners. Booth chuckled, knowing that Noggins took his escape as soon as he saw the opportunity, and so he waved to the young man, letting him know there were no hard feelings.

"C'mon, Bones," Booth bent over and picked up her field-case of equipment, "let's go talk to Dr. Mills. We'll hook up with Noggins later this morning for additional interviews down at the office."

As the partners made their way to the SUV, they discussed about their plans for the day while weaving in and out of the now-dwindled crowd of officials. Nearly simultaneously, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps trotting to catch up to them, and they turned, Booth instinctively stationing himself between his girlfriend and the approaching unknown person; but Booth instantly recognized their 'stalker' as soon as he turned… Officer Davis.

"Dr. Brennan? Excuse me, Dr. Brennan?" Davis slowed when he saw the imposing look that Booth was throwing his direction. "Excuse me, _Agent_ _Booth_, I'd like to speak with _Dr. Brennan_…" His voice was gruff and thick with a local accent, seemingly almost angry. Davis waited for Booth to move, but when he didn't, Davis moved aside, trying to square-up in front of Brennan.

Not one to be put-off by confrontation, Brennan stood tall and proud, moving slightly so she was alongside her partner, unsure of the reasons behind his outward protectiveness, (besides the obvious fact that an unknown man was trying to get her attention). She looked at the policeman who stood slightly taller than her fiancée, but was much less appealing. He had a strong, rugged face, far less handsome than Booth's, though she would suppose that some women would find the man attractive. She felt a very brief pang of remorse that she could no longer look at a person of the male persuasion without comparing said specimen to her partner, but she realized that if she was perfectly honest with herself, she'd been comparing men to Booth for years.

"Can I help you, Officer?" Brennan kept her voice professional, still uncertain about why Booth was so tense at the man's approach.

"Yes, ma'am… Hi there," he suddenly seemed shy, stammering slightly. "My name is Officer Davis; Anthony Davis – but my close friends call me Tony." He smiled, "you can call me Tony, too." When his boyish charm, which usually worked well on the ladies, didn't elicit a reaction – _not even a smile_ – from the visiting Anthropologist, he switched tactics. Stepping close to the doctor, Davis lowered his voice, taking on a pseudo-seductive tone. "Dr. Brennan, can I tell you that you are even more beautiful in person than you are on the dust jacket of your books?"

Brennan wrinkled her brow and tilted her head to the right, observing the change in the man's behavior with curiosity. From the corner of her eye, she could see Booth's demeanor change, and she knew he recognized that she was about to speak up for herself, though she knew he was metaphorically dying inside to display his alpha-tendencies and ward off any potential threat to his relationship. Taking a slow, deep breath, Brennan looked at the man's ruddy eyes. "Officer Davis, if only your close friends call you 'Tony', then why would I proceed to do so? I am not your close friend…I would not even consider myself an acquaintance of yours. Until this very moment, I have never so much as set eyes on you, so it would be inappropriate of me to call you anything other than your professional name until such time that I have gotten to know you better."

Davis tried to interject, hoping to put the pretty lady at ease. "Aw, gee, Dr. B, c'mon now, there's no reason to get defensive. Can I call you Temperance?"

Feeling a flush of fury at the gall of this man, Brennan fired back immediately, feeling Booth back away to give her room. "My name is Dr. Temperance Brennan – _Doctor Brennan_ to you. Not 'Dr. B', not 'Temperance.' I do not know you, nor do you know me. You are not invited to call me by anything other than Doctor Brennan. Do you have any questions, Officer Davis? Did I, in any way, make that _un_clear?"

"Ma'am, I meant no offense, honestly…I just wanted to…"

"I know _exactly_ what you wanted to do, Officer. You were attempting to entice me into spending time with you by using tactics and facial expressions that, no doubt, would work on less intelligent and, in all likelihood, _desperate_ women, with the intention of embarking upon a sexual encounter. However, I promise you, Officer Davis, that I am _not_ interested in pursuing _any _sort of relationship; nor am I the least bit tempted to engage in coitus with you. You are free to cease any and all current or future attempts to engage me in a social manner. My partner and I were brought here to work, and that is what I intend to do. The faster we can complete our investigation of this case, the faster we can return home." When she stared at the man's shocked face, Brennan found that she actually had to bite the inside of her lip to stop from laughing at his astonished gape. "Officer Davis, we have a very busy day ahead of us and if you have nothing more to say for yourself, then I am going to say goodbye – we don't have time to stand around watching you catch bees…"

Booth leaned forward slightly, grinning at the rugged man while whispering to his partner.

Brennan nodded once and raised an eyebrow at Davis. "_Flies_. We don't have time to watch you catch _flies_…" She turned her back to the KPD Officer and eyed Booth's barely stifled smile as she continued on her way to the SUV.

Stepping forward, Booth came face to face with his partner's would-be-booty-call, curling his lips into a smile that did not reach his threatening eyes. Not at all intimidated by the Officer's larger stature, Booth spoke loud enough for a few nearby onlookers to hear. "Just be happy you didn't make the grave mistake of trying to _touch_ her, or grab her arm or hand…because _that_ would have been embarrassing for you…" Booth heard a few chuckles and snickers from the surrounding audience of law enforcement officers before he continued. "She actually _hurts_ people who touch her without permission…" He let the smile drop from his face completely, pinning the man with a menacing look. "And when she's done, then it's _my_ turn…" Booth cuffed the man's bicep with an open palm, a falsely-friendly show of camaraderie as he smirked once more. "Thanks for all your assistance this morning, Davis…I'm sure we'll be seeing you again soon…"

With that, Booth strode to the SUV and slid into the driver's seat, glancing only briefly at Brennan's knowing smile. "Did you have fun back there, Bones?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, Booth…I think Officer Davis paled a little while you were conversing with him…" She arched an eyebrow in amusement as he watched her partner maneuver his SUV through a three-point turn, so they could exit the same way they entered. "I want to thank you for letting me tell him on first, though, Booth. I found it to be quite cathartic."

"_Off_, Bones. You told him 'off'..." Booth air-quoted the word _off_ with one hand as he looked for road signs to take them to the University stadium, where they were expecting to meet Dr. Mills in his office beneath the structure. With a deep chuckle, he teased his partner a little more, "You _turned_ him _on_, but you _told_ him _off_."

"Yes, I realize my misstatement, Booth, you don't need to keep going…" She accepted his hand as he stretched it across the center console, threading her fingers between his and resting their clasped hands on her thigh. She smiled impishly, "But seriously, thanks, Booth. I'm glad you let me speak for myself back there."

"Hey, babe, I'd never take that away from you; I promise." He winked and refocused on their route. "Besides, you would kick my ass if I did that…"

"And don't you forget it." She grinned as she looked around the outskirts of the campus, once again feeling the giddiness of their location seep into her thoughts and nerve endings.

B/B/B/B

"Dr. Mills?" Booth knocked on the open door that led into a small and crowded office housed beneath the University stadium. When Brennan had told him that the Anthropology offices were located below the stadium, he thought she was trying to make a joke that fell flat…or perhaps that there was some deeper scholastic meaning that was over his head regarding the location description. But, to his surprise, it was simply what it sounded like: the offices were situated in the dead space beneath the graduated stadium bleachers, making use of every available space in the structure. He silently looked around taking in his surroundings with the eyes of a trained sniper, while also observing the contents of the office with the keen instincts of a skilled FBI interrogator.

The short, stocky man behind the desk held one finger in the air as he tried to wrap up a phone call. Booth could see the excited look on the man's face when he laid eyes on Brennan; it was obvious the university professor recognized his partner when she entered the tiny space right behind Booth. He also observed how his fiancée made herself at home in this cramped office, just as if it was her own. She walked immediately to a collection of bones – both complete and fragmented – laid out in the same fashion Booth had seen his partner use for years whenever she examined remains. Before handling the bones, Brennan blindly pulled a pair of gloves from the box on the tabletop. "These bones are _very_ old, Booth," she spoke absently to her boyfriend, never taking her eyes off her nickname-namesake. Her eyes then scanned a row of clear boxes lining the far edge of the table, each containing what appeared to be artifacts of beaded and animal hide nature. After several silent moments, she spoke. "Just from an initial eye examination, and supposing _these_," she raised a delicate arm bone and motioned to the rest of the incomplete skeleton, "and _those_," indicating the artifacts in the near distance, "belong together, I would estimate these to be late 17th century…perhaps very early 18th century…" Her voice trailed off as she lowered the arm bone and proceeded to examine a small section of pelvic bone before moving on to a partial brow. "Native American in ancestry…" Carefully replacing each bone to its original location on the table, she moved her fingers to four vertebrae that lay in a row. "This was a young girl – she suffered from terrible scoliosis, Booth…"

The agent nodded and smiled at the professor, who silently apologized for not being able to end his call any faster; he mouthed the words '_big donor'_, and that's all it took for Booth to understand why Mills was hesitant to upset the person on the other end. But Booth didn't miss the doctor's concern as he watched the world-famous anthropologist handling his work, either, and so Booth sidled up alongside his partner.

"I don't think the doctor over there likes you playing with his toys, Bones…" Booth whispered to her without getting too close, still trying to uphold his end of the bargain with Cullen – to not show un-partnerly-like treatment towards his _un-partnerly-partner_ while working.

Ignoring the veiled warning, Brennan continued her examination of the bones, explaining to Booth what she was thinking as she studied the soot-darkened remains. "Her spine was curved _drastically_, nearly a seventy-degree angle, Booth. She was just a child, no more than nine or ten years of age, and she would have suffered terrible pain as a result of her deformity…" Brennan's voice was quiet, thoughtful, and thick with emotion for a girl she knew nothing about, and Booth fell in love with his brilliant scientist a little more. "But her family must have loved her, Booth… They cared for her, nourished her and took great pride in her garments, _if_, in fact, those items belong to her… Beaded work of that caliber and animal skins tanned with such skill would have been of great value to the family…"

"You are even more impressive in person than I ever imagined, based on your legend, Dr. Brennan." The partners were stirred when Brennan's quiet recitation was interrupted from behind. Turning, they faced a fairly short man, standing in semi-awe of his guest. "She was Cherokee, buried within a day or so of her death, as per Cherokee customs dictate, circa 1645 to 1710. I posit that she was physically incapacitated child of a High Matron, hence the valuable grave goods. She was well-cared for in life, despite her disability; evidence shows fractures that were set and healed, as well as remarkably healthy teeth for a child of that era." He glanced between the partners before he realized he hadn't actually introduced himself. "Sorry," he extended his hand abruptly. "Dr. Lawson Mills, Professor of Anthropological Studies. It's a pleasure, an honor, to meet you, Dr. Brennan." He smiled, slightly star-struck as Brennan accepted his handshake.

"Good morning, Dr. Mills, thank you for seeing us." Brennan smiled politely, tossing her latex gloves into the garbage can beside the examination table. "This is my partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, Head of Major Crimes from the DC field office." Brennan smiled – it wasn't often that she was able to do the official introductions and she suddenly understood the smile she often witnessed spread across Booth's face when _he_ introduced _her_ as his partner. She was proud of her partner, and she imagined that this was the same feeling Booth experienced whenever he introduced her.

Without missing a beat, Booth thrust his hand into the professor's. "Dr. Mills, as I'm sure you've been briefed, Dr. Brennan and I were brought down here to Knoxville to head the investigation into the dismembered body that was discovered on your Facility. We'd like to ask you some questions."

"Yes, yes, of course." Mills nodded towards the two chairs sitting opposite his desk. "Please have a seat. We were all quite shocked to learn there were remains in Q7… That portion of the property has remained fallow for the past season…"

Brennan felt Booth's eyes drift in her direction and she turned to him. "They try not to use the same sector of property for bodies in sequential years; instead they allow the property to, in the vernacular, purify itself before a new set of remains is introduced to the land. It helps to avoid any possible cross-contamination from the previous year's decomposed tissue." Once she knew that Booth understood the facility's routine, she turned back to Mills.

Booth leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, "Dr. Mills, I know that University Law Enforcement provided a list of students and faculty who have access rights to the property, but I'd like to see _your_ sign-in sheets for the past year. I assume you keep such records?" Booth raised an eyebrow at the older man.

"Oh, _absolutely_ I keep sign-in sheets, Agent Booth." He punched a few keys on his computer keyboard and the printer began spitting out several pages. "This list will include not only the departmental faculty and those students enrolled in Anthropological and Entomological studies, but will also name everyone who entered the facility from outside the University, such as law enforcement trainees, the cadaver dog trainers, donor visits, television crews, etcetera." He grabbed the sheets and handed them to Booth without argument, for which the Agent was grateful; he hated when people demanded search warrants for information that should be readily provided during murder investigations.

"When was the last time you were on that particular portion of the property, Dr. Mills?"…

Booth and Brennan continued speaking with Dr. Mills for the next twenty minutes, gathering information that they deemed necessary for the case, but Booth knew instinctively, that Mills was clean. He didn't commit this murder and disembodiment, nor did he partake in its disposal in any way. Once Booth was confident they had enough information to get them started, he rose from the hard wooden chair with care, letting his back stretch slowly as he moved. "Thank you for your time and cooperation, Dr. Mills. You've been a great source of information, and we appreciate it." Booth extended his hand, holding out his business card. "My cell number is on here; please call me if you think of anything additional. Even if you feel it might be insignificant, go ahead and call – you never know what piece of evidence could make _or break_ a case." He nodded as the professor accepted his card.

Brennan then smiled and spoke. "Dr. Mills, given the current situation, in which you and your students are banned from the property, I would like to extend an offer to you. I have arranged for one of my interns from the Jeffersonian to fly down to assist with the case. He is one of the most intelligent interns I've ever had the pleasure of mentoring, and if it would be helpful, I could loan him to your department a few times a day to perform data-recordings and information studies on the legitimate bodies under observation." She spoke quickly and excitedly. "Or, even better, I could arrange for another one of my interns, another highly skilled Anthropology Intern who is currently leading a team of first year interns, per my instructions, to come down and dedicate eight-hour days to your department for the necessary rounds of information-collecting. At any given time, as you well know, those decomposing corpses have a multitude of metaphorical stories to tell those of us studying them." She smiled, certain the doctor would accept her offer, but didn't notice that Booth had moved slightly behind her and was shaking his head rigorously at the professor.

Mills darted his eyes between the famous author and her odd partner before settling his gaze on the prettier one of the pair. "That won't be necessary, Dr. Brennan, but thank you. The University has already contracted an expert to come in and take care of everything for a time span yet to be determined by your investigation. I believe you probably know hi-"

"Whoa! Wow! Look at the time, Bones!" Booth interjected, a little too loudly to be construed as inconspicuous, but it did the trick; it stopped the professor's speech mid-sentence and it grabbed Brennan's attention enough that she wrinkled her forehead at her partner's unusually rude behavior.

"Booth…!" She hissed through clenched teeth and started to turn back to Mills, but Booth grabbed her arm gently.

"We gotta go, Bones…now…" He pinned her with a stare that silently begged her not to argue with him, and she reluctantly acquiesced.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Mills. "It seems we must be tardy for another appointment, Dr. Mills. I'm sorry to end our discussion so abruptly. Perhaps we can continue at a later time. And if you change your mind about additional assistance," she felt herself being tugged from the office by an Impatient-Booth, "please don't hesitate to call." She was at the door already and Booth continued to pull her rapidly out into the outdoor hallway. "You can reach me on Booth's cell phone as well!" She called into the office as Booth was closing the door, ending all further conversation between Dr. Mills as his partner.

"What the _hell_ is the matter with you, Booth? That was incredibly rude!" She pinched her features and glared at her boyfriend. "Don't tell me you were _threatened_ by the fact that another man and I were sharing a discussion in which you were not directly involved….that would be ludicrous, even for an overly-alpha personality like yourself…"

"What?" Booth feigned shock. "What? No… It wasn't that at all… Threatened _by him_? By that little guy? No way!" He harrumphed at the ridiculous accusation, wrinkling his nose and eying her from the corners of his dark brown eyes.

"Well, then, why didn't you let me finish my discussion? Why did you interrupt Dr. Mills when we were trying to ascertain the needs of his students?"

"I…uh…I just started to uh… feel stuffy. You know, claustrophobic… I started to feel a little queasy… that's it…that's all…." Booth was kicking himself for not yet breaking the news to his partner that '_the asshole'_ was expected to make an appearance soon… But he wanted to be the one to tell her – he wanted to do it gently…to ease her into the knowledge.

Noticing the beads of sweat forming on her partner's forehead and upper lip, despite the cool air of the December outdoors, Brennan frowned, immediately forgiving him for his crude behavior back in the tiny office. She rested her hand on his bicep, stopping him from walking as she turned to stand in front of him. "I'm sorry, Booth. It _was_ very cramped in there, wasn't it? I didn't mean to yell at you, I just didn't understand that you were under duress…" She looked up with soft eyes full of concern, noticing the flush of pink creeping into Booth's cheeks. "Are you still feeling the unpleasant stress you experienced back there, Booth? You are becoming flushed…" She started tugging his arm, her thin, but strong fingers gripping him through his heavy outer coat. "Come…Come out into the open, get out from beneath this covered walkway; the fresh breeze will do you good…"

Booth kicked himself in the ass for lying to her – for making her worry about his well-being. But at the same time, he was grateful for the sheer love she was demonstrating for him. "I'm… I'm OK, Bones," he mumbled weakly, shame creeping into his vocals. "Just… c'mere…" he stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards his chest, where he crushed her in an all-encompassing embrace. "Maybe I just needed a hug, huh? After months of being able to touch you whenever I want, maybe the inability to do so while being out here just got to me…" He smirked into her hair when she wriggled her hips against his playfully.

"I missed touching you too, Booth. Even if it was only for the partial day so far…" She smiled against his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Pulling back, she looked up at him, noticing that his handsome complexion was back to normal again, though his eyes had darkened with desire. "You sure you're alright now, Booth?"

"I love you, Bones," he craned his neck and planted a kiss on her soft lips. He didn't want to fabricate another lie about why he needed to get her away from the professor back there, so he did what always came naturally… He slid his tongue along the thin line where her lips met and when she opened to him, he brushed against her soft warmth, growling into her mouth while swallowing her responsive moan.

The news of one _dick-wad_ Dr. Michael Stires would have to wait just a little longer…

**Postscript A/N**

**So, we know that Angela and Hodgins and Finn are on the way! Woo-hoo! **

**And I just love it when Brennan has a little slap-down with a would-be-pursuer like she did here with Davis! And Booth was so proud of her… **_**and protective**_**!**

**That was pretty fast thinking on Booth's part to stop Mills from spilling the proverbial beans before he had a chance to do it… but he better get his ass in gear and tell her!**

**Please take a moment and let me know what you think! We writers write when we know we have people reading our stories, so I look forward to hearing from you all! I welcome all of you to share your thoughts with me! **

**Peace & love**

**~jazzy**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hello and welcome back! I know, it's been forever since I posted a new DPO chapter. I'm sorry about that; my Muse decided to take a hike and got lost in the woods…I had to hire a new one. :-/**

**That said, I struggled to crank this chapter out. Seriously, I had the outline and it all looked marvy, but then when I tried to actually write it, it wouldn't come to me. I hope, in the end, you like the result of all the labor-intensive love I poured into these pages… :-) (is that too much? LOL)**

**As usual, I don't own Bones or any rights to the U.T. Research Facility mentioned in my story. I'm simply taking characters that we all know and love and placing them in a very fitting situation. **

_Chapter 6 final moments: _

"_I love you, Bones," he craned his neck and planted a kiss on her soft lips. He didn't want to fabricate another lie about why he needed to get her away from the professor back there, so he did what always came naturally… He slid his tongue along the thin line where her lips met and when she opened to him, he brushed against her soft warmth, growling into her mouth while swallowing her responsive moan. _

_The news of one dick-wad Dr. Michael Stires would have to wait just a little longer… _

Booth and Brennan spent the next several hours in back-to-back interviews with students and faculty currently involved with the Anthropology Research Facility. Agent Noggins had arranged for everyone to come in at specified appointment times, making the team's interrogations seamless.

For the most part, these early interviews proved of little interest to Booth; there were only a couple of possible follow-ups that he felt needed to be done, but he didn't get a feeling about any of them in the way of viable suspects. He did, however, feel his temper being pressed to the limits as the day wore on. Most of the students, and a handful of the faculty, were simply star-struck at Brennan's presence - not only was she an untouchable idol within the Anthropological Community, but she was a New York Times best-selling author several times over to boot. Several times, he had to remind their 'guests' that he and Brennan were the ones asking the questions, not the other way around.

'_Do you base your character, Kathy Reichs, on yourself, Dr. Brennan?'_

'_Do you have the same adventurous events in your life as your character?'_

'_Do you base that character of Andy Lister on your partner over there?'_

'_Will you have dinner with me while you're in town?'_

'_Would you read my manuscript?'_

'_Have you ever been kidnapped like Kathy was in Bred to the Bone?'_

That last question about the kidnapping struck a particular nerve with Booth, for obvious reasons, and he slammed his fist on the table, causing a booming sound to echo in the room.

"_Dammit_! What is _with_ you people? Is _no one_ bothered by the fact that a _dismembered_ _body_ was found buried in the supposedly empty chunk of land? _Jesus H. Christ_!" He shoved up from his seat and stalked to the young man sitting on the opposite side of the table, getting into the kid's face. "We are not _here_ to talk about Dr. Brennan!" he growled through gritted teeth. "We are here to ask _you_ questions about what _you_ know regarding that body!" He spun the boy's chair so it faced him directly, turning the student completely away from Brennan, diverting his attention. "Now, you will answer _my_ questions…_Got it_?"

"Y-yes sir…Yes."

The boy was scared, that much was obvious, but there was something about him that spoke to Booth. The Special Agent didn't think he was guilty, per se, but Booth felt that he knew something…

"Great," Booth forced a smile at the student. "Now, Douglas, tell me what _exactly_ you do when you're over at the Anthropology Facility. According to my notes here, you are neither an Anthropology nor an Entomology student."

"That is correct, Agent Booth. I am a Forensic Biology major; specifically Forensic Botany. I am studying the effects that decomposing bodies have on the surrounding flora in an ever-changing environment. I visit the Facility once a day and record my findings related to the progression of the decomp results."

Booth nodded as he walked around the table and reclaimed the seat beside his partner. "And so, you were at the facility yesterday? That was the last time you were there?"

"Actually, no. By the time I tried to get on property, the cops had already refused entrance to any non-essentials. And that ban on students is causing me a problem, because now it's been two days that I don't have any field data for my research, and I guess we're being kept out until the case is solved. So, how long do you expect to be, before you solve it? The quicker you discover what happened, the quicker I can get back to work…" He raised an eyebrow at the partners, as if his research was the most important topic of discussion at that moment, causing Booth to harrumph at the ballsy attitude of the future scientist.

"Well, Douglas, if you and all your little counterparts had been more interested in the case rather than asking my partner here asinine questions when you were brought in here, we would have been done with this portion of our day already. Instead, we had to deal with unrelated queries and interruptions. Now that we're back on track, however, I have several other questions I'd like to ask you…"

Booth and Brennan proceeded to fire questions at Douglas, just as they had to all his predecessors that morning. Once they were satisfied with the answers, they advised the young man that he should remain in town, and that he may be called back for further questioning. After deflecting additional autograph and photo opportunity requests, Booth and Brennan were finally through with the list of interviews arranged for the early portion of the day. The late afternoon interrogations would likely be conducted solely by Booth, because Hodgins, Angela and Finn were expected to arrive by then, and Brennan would want to be at the scene with her team.

Pushing back from the table, Booth swiveled in his chair to face his partner. "Whaddya say we go find someplace to grab a bite, Bones? I'm starving."

She nodded her head as she closed the notebook she'd been using during their sessions. "Perhaps we can ask if there's a diner nearby. I know how much you enjoy a big greasy meal after you've finished interrogating possible suspects." She grinned at him playfully.

"Yeah, and _you_ certainly don't complain when I get a big helping of greasy French fries, do ya?" He teased as he pushed back from the table and stood by Brennan's chair as she tucked her book into her messenger bag. Booth chuckled when he saw his partner's cheeks grow pink with the 'uh-oh, he-caught-me'-blush, and he danced his fingers across her upper back lightly. With a wide smile, he nodded towards the door. "C'mon, we can ask Noggins where's a good place to eat." He rested his open palm against the small of her back and ushered her from the tiny room, out into the crowded hallway of the relatively small Agency.

When the partners entered the hallway, Booth immediately felt his protective instincts kicking in; several agents and visitors were bustling about and more than a few were giving Brennan an appreciative eye. Flexing his fingers against her suit jacket, Booth applied the right amount of pressure to direct his partner in the direction he wanted. To her credit, Brennan allowed him to take the lead without argument, feeling somewhat uneasy at seeing heads lean together whispering while eyes remained trained on them.

As Booth followed closely behind her, she glanced over her shoulder while continuing to walk forward. "It's like they've never seen partners from another field office, Booth…" She mumbled disapprovingly, letting her trademark "V" to appear between her eyebrows.

"No, Bones… They've seen other _partners_, but they've never seen partners like us." He shrugged as he glanced around, and nodded in greeting to a few Agents he'd met earlier that morning out at the Facility. "Correction," he leaned close to her and chuckled. "They've never seen a partner like _you_, Bones…"

Brennan cocked her head and stopped dead in her tracks, causing Booth to collide into her back while she simultaneously turned to face her partner. "Does this field office not employ outside independent contractors to assist on special cases? _Surely_ they've seen, or been party to, partnering Agents with non-Agents on occasion, wouldn't they have, Booth?" She searched his eyes for an explanation of why the resident officers would be so interested in seeing her working with the best agent in the FBI.

"You being contracted isn't what has them interested, Bones… It's _**you**_ they're interested in…" He ducked his chin and peered at her from beneath raised eyebrows and curled one side of his lips into a crooked grin as he spoke in hushed tones. "And if I wasn't already your partner, I'd be watching you the same way they are."

Ready for a rebuttal, Brennan huffed slightly and stood her ground, despite Booth's not-so-subtle nudging for her to keep moving. "Booth, don't be ridiculous. There's nothing about me _that_ special to cause such a fuss…The men here are more likely intimidated by your higher ranking, you excellent skill levels, your mythological reputation and your radiating alpha-male personality. Especially-"

Taking a loose grip on her upper arm, Booth turned his partner so they could continue heading towards Noggins' office. "Nope, I'll tell ya later, Bones," he interrupted her rant before she turned completely anthropological and squinty right there in the middle of the hallway. He glared at one particular man who didn't even try to mask his interest in Brennan's physique and as the guy stepped closer, ready to offer an outstretched cup of what was probably eight-hour-old coffee, Booth placed himself in the direct path the southern-agent was taking. "Yeah, sure pal," he growled at the man who was about the same size as his own build. "Way to impress the visiting Anthropological expert – a cup of cold, stale government-issued sludge…"

"Wha-" the offended man's eye grew wide.

"Don't sweat it, man; we're off to lunch anyway; I'll buy her a good cup o' Joe…" Booth didn't give him a chance to interrupt, and he kept ushering his girlfriend forward. "Catch ya later, huh?" He ignored the insulted look on his counterpart's face as he continued walking at Brennan's side, slightly behind, as was usual.

Stopping in front of Noggins' tiny closet-like-office, Booth tapped on the open door to gain the young man's attention. Seemingly startled, he looked up and smiled at the partners as they entered the tight space. "Hi Dr. Brennan; Booth." Noggins nodded to them each in turn and motioned for them to sit.

"Aw, no, thanks anyway Noggins. We're gonna take a break and grab something to eat. We were wondering if there was someplace close by that you can recommend. A local hang-out, or a diner, maybe? Someplace that makes good home-cooked meals."

"Oh, sure. Ya'll should try Lorelei's Café over on Gardner. It's just two blocks south and one block to the east. You can't miss it; she has the A-Frame blackboard out on the sidewalk advertisin' her specials for the day. It's a peach of a place, my girl loves it; and at night they host live music performances, so check out her schedule when you're there; maybe you'll wanna head over there one evenin'." He beamed when he saw two equally satisfied smiles staring back at him.

"That sounds excellent, Agent Noggins," Brennan grinned and turned to Booth. "Oftentimes, owner-operated businesses with this kind of appeal will feature at least one or two meatless options for vegetarians or vegans. Especially located so close to the University – surely the owner will want to attract a wide variety of clientele."

"Bones, if you're happy with the way the place sounds, I'm fine with it." He had to stop himself from leaning in to kiss her softly, her smile was so captivating. But as he felt his body undeniably drawn towards hers, he caught himself, remembering that they were in another agent's office, in an FBI building that was _not_ the Hoover, and kissing her at that moment would have been completely inappropriate…But the reality of the desire was unmistakable; and Booth was looking forward to an hour alone with his fiancée, even if it was in a public setting – he planned on stealing at least a few deep kissed to quench his thirst until later. _Damn Cullen and his fucking request that we lay low_…

As the partners turned to leave Noggins' office, the young man called out to the visiting Special Agent. "Oh, Agent Booth? I texted you those details you requested." Noggins didn't explain further, suspecting that Booth would check his messages straight away. After Booth had asked him for any information regarding the arrival of the contracted specialist, the junior agent did some research, curious about why Booth was so interested in Dr. Michael Stires. It wasn't long before Noggins located the information on the Maggie Schilling case, in which case Dr. Stires was called upon to discount the evidence presented by Dr. Brennan and to discredit her in front of a jury by presenting himself to be more approachable and knowledgeable. Brennan had proved the victor, though the transcripts showed that it very well could have gone the other direction had the prosecutor _not_ brought Brennan's personal history into the line of questioning. Brennan's response, which had captivated Noggins' attention as he read, offered insight to the woman that a lot of people might not know, unless they followed the team's cases or knew the woman directly. He felt a swell of respect for the expert anthropologist and grew even more curious about the partnership she had formed with one of the most successful FBI Agents in modern years. He hadn't had time to study further into their history, as they had actually interrupted his research when they approached him for a recommendation on where to eat…the young agent hoped he'd collapsed his computer screen before they could see that he was actually looking over their history. He sighed in relief when Booth curled one side of his lips into a tight grin and nodded his appreciation of Noggins' discreet comment.

"Thanks, man. I'll check it out."

As Booth and Brennan walked away from his office, he could hear the famous woman questioning her partner, "what information was Agent Noggins gathering for you, Booth? Anything we should discuss before going into any further interviews?"

"Nah, just some…_stuff_," Booth shrugged and brushed off her query with a wave of guilt, still uncertain how she would take the news that she'd be working in close proximity to Michael Stires by this time tomorrow.

B/B/B/B

They found Lorelei's Café without a problem and sat themselves in a quiet corner at a small, intimate round café table. "I like the ambiance of this place, Booth," Brennan spoke quietly as she looked around the cozy space. "It reminds me of an old coffeehouse – you know, the kind that evolved back in the 1950's and 60's, providing venues for acoustic musicians to play their sets…" She sat to Booth's right and studied the wall behind her partner, which had been covered with years of signatures and autographs, dates and hand-sketched figures and symbols.

From where he sat, Booth had an unobstructed view of not only the door, but also of the rest of the café. His keen observation skills allowed him to scan their surroundings and see a lot all at once. There were, perhaps, six tables including theirs, and only two others were occupied. He noticed against the far wall, there was a row of over-sized lounge chairs which were currently empty. Each seat was angled slightly, so that in the evenings, the occupants could face the stage at the far end of the restaurant and enjoy whatever entertainment was scheduled that night.

Decorating the walls was a hodge-podge of collections. There were old, obviously unusable musical instruments, framed prints and post cards, various memorabilia that appeared to be of entertainment-origin. Book shelves were scattered into every empty space, offering a wide variety of board games, puzzle books and several old and new novels and biographies. Bringing a smile to his handsome face, his eyes spotted a tattered copy of _Cross Bones_, his partner's second novel, which she'd very kindly dedicated to him, humbling him beyond words. His mind took him back to that evening in her apartment when he snuck a peek at her manuscript as it sat on her table, and he blushed at the memory of her brother standing at his side, oblivious to just how big a heart his little sister possessed.

Booth's eyes settled back on his partner as she sat next to him, still studying the wall behind where he sat. He paused in his roving observations and just watched her. He watched her pale blue-gray eyes dart back and forth and her lips move as she silently read messages left behind by unknown persons who sat here before.

Feeling his gaze on her, Brennan lowered her eyes and found that Booth was indeed watching her, smiling softly. "What?" She asked his cautiously, wondering what he was thinking about.

He reached over and covered her hand with his, feeling the absence of her engagement ring on her finger, but knew she was wearing in on the gold chain that clung to her neck and disappeared beneath the lightweight V-neck sweater she wore. He knew that it would be nestled safely between the soft swells of her breasts and he felt himself harden at the memory of waking her that morning by tracing his roughened fingertips over the silky flesh just beneath those perfect mounds. Still grasping her left hand in his right, he leaned over with his free hand and tugged the gold chain out from its warm nesting place. He watched his own movements as he pulled the ring out and held it between his thick fingers, looking at the prisms it reflected against her pale neck, before letting it fall against the outside of her midnight blue sweater. He looked back up and saw she was smiling at his movements and a pale pink flush had filled her cheeks.

"I love you, Bones," he said simply and quietly, befitting the intimate seating. "I love you so damn much, baby."

Brennan's smile grew and she felt the flutter of excitement course through her body. It was the same exhilaration she always felt whenever her mate randomly declared his love for her, or complimented her appearance, even when she looked like hell at the end of a long day, or the times he brought her an unexpected surprise, 'just because'. She had an instant flashback to the day he gave her Brainy Smurf; he pretended he wasn't going to give her the toy and she reminded him that she liked Smurfette, anyway, _not_ Brainy Smurf. It was then that he told her she was so much more than Smurfette, she had her looks and _so much more_… That little toy had become a precious possession to Brennan, a cherished gift from the one man who would help her evolve into the person she wanted to be. That was long before they began their personal relationship, but Brennan knew that Booth had always enjoyed surprising her, and he hadn't stopped just because he finally had her. He still brought home little tokens:

_Hey, I found this little key chain with a skull and thought of you. [Said with a shy smile]_

_Look Bones, it's a Lego toy dressed like a scientist! [Boyish excitement radiating from his body]_

_This negligee…it's the same color as your eyes. [Undeniable deep desire shining in his eyes]_

_I know daffodils are still your favorite, but… [A small shrug as he handed her a single calla lily, like the one from the night he proposed]_

"I know you do, Booth," she finally replied, a look of adoration filling her eyes. "I love you, too." She closed the short distance between them and pressed her lips to his as he palmed her jaw and cheek. It was an all-too-brief kiss, but they heard someone approaching and broke apart before things became heated.

"Hey y'all, welcome to Lorelei's," the middle-aged waitress smiled at the couple and raised a pot of steaming coffee. "Can I offer you some of my special blend?"

Brennan smiled and nodded, thankful for what smelled like _real_ coffee, not that stuff the FBI served under the pretense of calling it java. "Yes, _please_, fresh coffee sounds wonderful."

Booth nodded as well and turned his coffee cup over, so the woman could fill it for him. "Yeah, thanks."

"Y'all aren't from around here, are ya? I don't think I've seen you here b'fore." She spoke as she poured their drinks and handed them each a small single-sided menu printed on average card-stock, perfectly typical of a 'mom-n-pop' type of restaurant. It brought a smile to Booth's face.

"No, we're visiting Knoxville on business, and we were advised to try your establishment. You come highly recommended." Brennan answered with a smile and her usual formality.

"Well, I'm glad to have ya. My name's Lorelei and this is my place," she waved her hand about in a flourish, obviously proud of her tiny restaurant.

"It's very quaint," Brennan responded. "I've been looking at all the signatures here on the wall. Are they local celebrities who've frequented your café?"

"No, ma'am, those there are the autographs of everyone who's ever performed on my stage up there. Local musicians, poets, storytellers… By day this is a café, and the lifeline - money-wise - to my business. But in the evenin's, this is a local hang-out for artists. Performers." She shrugged slightly, not sure about her guests and whether or not they ever listened to acoustic singer/song-writers; they seemed like city-folk – and not _southern_-city-folk. She was about to go into deeper explanation when the woman seated at her two-top table became outwardly excited and turned to her companion.

"See, Booth? I was right! It _is_ a coffeehouse!" Brennan turned back to Lorelei and continued talking. "Do you have music every night, or just on the weekends?"

"Oh, honey, we have it _every_ night. There are enough singers in this town that I wish there were more than seven days in a week, so's I could help promote more people." She smiled as she looked up at the wall of autographs. "There are a few _almost_-famous signatures up there, but mostly my guests are only part-time performers, holdin' down a day-job to pay the bills and performing in the evenin's for the sheer pleasure of it. Ya'll gonna be in town for a few days?"

Booth nodded, getting in on the conversation and knowing that he and his fiancée would be back to visit Lorelei again during their stay. "Yeah, we don't know exactly how long we're here for, but definitely we'll be here for a few more days."

"That's great," the woman replied. "We are open for lunch every day 10:30 – 2:30, then we close for a break. We serve dinner from 4:30 'til 8:00, and the singin' usually starts around 8:30 or so. On Tuesday nights we have Open Mic, which means you get a variety of performers, each one gets six minutes on stage to perform whatever their specialty. They sign up the week before and I post the schedule on Tuesday morning, so if folks wanna see a certain person, they know what time their guy or gal takes center-stage. Then on Thursday nights, we have Oldies Night – singers can only sing songs from the 1950's or earlier, but they can do their own spin on the tunes – makes for some interesting performances." Lorelei smiled when she saw the approval on Brennan's eager face. "The other nights all have a featured artist who will perform for about an hour and half – two 45-minute sets. Tonight's a real special night. We have The Polyphony Trio coming tonight; it's three young men, very well-respected in the local folk circuit, each of them a brilliant musician on his own, but together, they bring out the best in each other. If you're free tonight, and if you're interested, c'mon in and enjoy some good music." Lorelei was obviously a great supporter of local artists and took pride in promoting those she sponsored.

"Thank you, Lorelei; we don't know what our evening is going to bring, but we will definitely keep that in mind and discuss the possibility of coming back." Brennan responded for both of them before turning to Booth to gain his approval that she'd answered correctly.

He simply nodded at his partner, knowing from the look on her face that she was definitely interested in frequenting this little café while they were in town. He also knew that he would go along with whatever she wanted to do, so there was nothing really to discuss.

"Alrighty, then, enough talk; I'm sure you folks didn't come in her to listen to me chatter on and on," she grinned. "I'll give you a moment to look over today's menu. Did you see the specials on the board out front?"

"Actually," Booth smiled, "I don't need to look at the menu. I _did_ see the board and I'd like to try your open-face roast beef sandwich." He smiled widely, causing the woman taking his order to involuntarily blush at the man's good looks.

"The Butternut Squash pasta on special, is that vegetarian?" Brennan interjected after the woman had taken her boyfriend's order.

"Sure is, honey," Lorelei smiled, "it's one of my most popular recipes."

"That sounds lovely. Thank you."

Handing the woman back the menus, the partners once again found themselves alone in their little corner, despite the fact that there were a couple of other tables occupied towards the center of the small eatery. Booth once again reached over and took Brennan's hand, dwarfing the daintiness of her surprisingly strong fingers with his much larger, veiny grip. She watched him chew on the inside of his cheek, lost in thought as he looked down to where he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Booth, are you alright?" she asked quietly, hoping to draw him out of his deep contemplation.

Raising his dark eyes to look at her, he smiled and sighed in resignation, knowing he had to just come out with it and tell her. "Bones, I have something to tell you; some news that is probably going to upset you…"

"You aren't leaving me, are you?"

"What?! No!" He sat straight up and crinkled his forehead in confusion. "Why would you think I'm leaving you, Bones? I love you; I'm never going to leave you, baby… I gave you that promise and I meant it." He turned in his chair to face her better.

"Well, you just said you had news that would upset me. The most upsetting news you could ever give me is that you were leaving… So, I just wanted to get that clear right away…" She raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. "You seem, I don't know…sad, somehow…"

"No, Bones, I'm just…well, I'm bothered by something that I have to tell you. Something that I've needed to tell you all day." He reached for his coffee and took a slow drink. When he replaced his mug in its saucer, he looked back at her and took a deep breath, but before he could get the words out of his mouth, she interrupted him, surprising the hell out of him like she always had.

"Is it about Michael coming out to study the bodies?"

Booth stared at her, his jaw slightly agape. "How did…when did you…who told you about Stires?"

She smiled slyly and eyed him knowingly. "You just did…"

"Bones. C'mon, how did you know that's what I needed to talk to you about?" He couldn't believe that he'd been dreading this conversation all day, and here, she already knew that the ass would be examining the bodies.

"Well, I didn't know for sure until just now, as I started to string together events. You acted very evasive at Dr. Mills' office today when we started to discuss the possibility of me sending for one of my interns. He said the University had already made arrangements to contract an expert to keep data records on the progress of the corpses. But before he could complete that conversation, you became suddenly claustrophobic – a trait that you've never really been prone to exhibit. Then, when I tried to get a copy of the list of permitted personnel from Agent Noggins, to ensure that my staff had been added to the list, he told me that he'd already reviewed the list with you, and that you had it in your file. He assured me that my people were on the list, but he wouldn't let me see his clipboard. In the interrogation room, when you opened your file, I saw a quick glimpse of it as you flipped through pages and certain names caught my attention: Angela, Jack & Mr. Abernathy, of course, but I was also _pretty_ certain that I saw Michael's name on the list." She took a sip of her coffee and eyed her partner over the rim of her cup. "Then, when we stopped at Agent Noggins' office, I don't know if you noticed what he had on his desk, but I did…" When she saw the quizzical look Booth was giving her, she continued. "He had a yellow legal pad on which he had some notes scribbled – his handwriting is _quite_ atrocious, by the way…" She shook her head in disgust but noticed the impatient look her boyfriend was giving her, so she continued. "Anyway, he had Maggie Schilling written down, which, as you know was the case in which I had to prove my findings to be correct and Michael's to be wrong." She shrugged, "So if Agent Noggins is looking into our past cases, specifically the one pertaining to my interaction with Michael, then it stood to reason that you mentioned to him that we knew Michael. And knowing you, you likely told Noggins to keep you informed of Michael's whereabouts and information on his arrival." She covered their joined hands with her free palm and leaned closer to Booth. "But it wasn't until just now, seeing you annoyed and worried to tell me something, that I put everything together."

"When did you become such a brilliant investigator, Bones?" Booth looked at her in astonishment, she had it all figured out and he hadn't said a word.

"I have a very steep learning curve, Booth. We've discussed this…" She beamed, knowing she'd surprised him. Hell, she had surprised herself, but she was most proud of shocking her ever-observant boyfriend.

"Well, yeah, you do, don'tcha?" He raised both her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. "I know how much he hurt you before… he's such an ass," he felt that old anger boiling to the surface, but swallowed it quickly. "I just don't want you to be hurt again."

She smiled sweetly, "he can't hurt me anymore, Booth; you won't let him."

"Damn right I won't, baby," he leaned over and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. "No one hurts my girl…"

"I'm _hardly_ a girl, Booth…" She started to retort, but the Special Agent was spared from a lecture, thanks to the timely arrival of their lunch, which looked mouth-wateringly delicious.

Lorelei smiled at her guests as their eyes grew wide at the ample servings she was placing on the table. She offered more coffee and left the patrons to enjoy their lunch. When she walked back behind the counter, near the tiny window that looked into the kitchen she smiled at her husband. "I think they were impressed with the presentation, dear. I wish I could figure out who the woman is, I know I've seen her somewhere…" She glanced back over her shoulder at the partners, happy to see the good looking couple obviously enjoying their lunch.

Booth and Brennan made a silent pact to cease talk of Michael Stires for the course of their meal, instead focusing on the case and the details they'd gathered while interviewing that morning.

"You're interested in that last young man, _Douglas_, aren't you?" Brennan asked in between bites of her mind-blowingly good butternut squash penne pasta dish.

"You know, there's somethin' about him…" Booth mixed rich brown gravy into his mashed potatoes. "I don't think he did it – you know, I don't think he is guilty of cutting up and burying that woman. But he knows something. He might not even realize it, but… there's something there; I just can't put my finger on it yet." He took a bite of his homemade-style meal and closed his eyes in appreciation. "Oh my god, these are good potatoes…"

Brennan laughed at his antics, knowing that she only ever had to worry about Booth having a love affair with food, never with another woman. "I take it, that means there are lumps in there? Proving that they are _real_ mashed potatoes, not fake flakes?"

"Oh, these babies are real, alright… MMmmm…" He grinned and winked in her direction. "Not quite as good as yours, but damn close. The closest I've ever tasted."

She smiled, knowing how much he loved her mashed potatoes. "Well, I'm honored to know that you still prefer mine," she playfully responded. "Mine are real too, Booth." Her whispered innuendo almost made him choke as his eyes were immediately drawn to her cleavage as she leaned forward against the tabletop. Then, as quickly as she had turned the conversation sexual, she did an about face. "It takes a special knack to get the consistency just right. I never told you my secret ingredient." She took a bite of her lunch and glanced over at him, seeing he was still slightly stunned by the switch in discussion tones.

He squinted an eye in her direction, seeing the happiness written all over her face at their frisky banter. "Oh yeah? And what's that, Bones? What's your secret ingredient?"

Indignantly, she stared back at him. "If I told you, it would no longer be my secret, now would it? If I tell you, I'd have to kill you…"

Laughing out loud, Booth sat back in his chair and looked at his partner. "This is why I love you so much, Bones. You're not afraid to threaten a Federal Agent… just like you weren't afraid to blackmail me all those years ago."

Just then a text came through on his phone. With a frown, he sighed. "No rest for the weary, Bones… our next interview has been pushed up… for 20 minutes from now… I guess we better get wrapped up here." He sat up and dug into his meal with gusto, intent on cleaning his plate just as he would at home; Pops had taught him that there was no greater compliment to a chef than to see a clean plate, and he _definitely_ wanted to compliment Lorelei's chef, who just happened to also be her husband, he would later learn.

B/B/B/B

As they pulled into the FBI's parking garage, Booth looked over at his partner. "What time do you expect Ange and the boys? Do you have time for the next few interviews or do you want to take the truck back over to the site?"

"They won't be here for another two hours, so I'll stay with you. If the interrogations run longer, I'll leave and come back to get you when you're through."

"Bones, they are _interviews_, not interrogations at this point. No one is a singled-out suspect yet, so we're just conducting _interviews_."

"Yes, well, '_a rose by any other name_,' Booth. Call it what you will, it's still the same thing. You are smelling out the possible suspects…"

He cut her off as they entered the building, "Sniffing, Bones. I'm _sniffing_ out possible suspects, not _smelling_ out…" He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the elevator that would take them up to their destination.

"Oh, right…That's what I meant." She had long ago stopped blushing when she made colloquial mistakes around her partner, but the prospect that someone else with whom she was not acquainted might have heard, caused her cheeks to redden immediately.

Booth stood by her side as they waited for the elevator and bumped her shoulder knowingly. "Don't worry about it, Bones," he mumbled quietly. "I hear people down here marry their cousins…"

"Booth!" She turned to him in shock.

"What? That's what I heard. I'm not saying it's true, I'm just saying that's what I've heard…" He glanced around, glad to see that no one had heard him as he cracked a joke at their expense for the sheer purpose of making his fiancée feel better about herself. "But you never know…I'm just sayin'…"

B/B/B/B

The next two hours were filled with somewhat more productive interviews than those they'd conducted earlier. Booth had his eye on a couple of students and three faculty members. All of them hit a nerve with the agent for various reasons. When they were finished with the meetings, it had just bypassed the two-hour mark that Brennan had been aiming for, and after confirming that their small team had landed and were arranging for a rental car, they all agreed to meet at the Research Facility.

Walking down the hallway towards the exit, Booth spied Noggins and waved him down. "We're heading back over to the Body Farm," the reference to the controversial nickname, which Brennan detested, earned him a swift punch in the bicep from his partner along with a hiss that sounded somewhat like his name. "Uh, 'scuse me, we're heading back over to the _Research Facility_," he glared out of the corner of his eye at his partner for a split second before looking back at the young agent. "The rest of our team just landed and will be arriving there shortly. I trust that your forensics lab is aware that we will need a transport van to move everything back over here to their lab?"

"Sure thing, boss, Rice said to call him when you're ready and he'd send his team out."

"Great, thanks man," Booth started to continue down the hall, but Brennan lagged behind, causing him to turn in his tracks and see her approach Noggins very slowly, like a cat on the prowl.

"Did you find anything interesting, Agent Noggins?" Brennan asked pointedly, with a raised eyebrow.

"Beg your pardon, ma'am?" Noggins became instantly nervous at the predatory look the visiting consultant was giving him.

"In your _research_, Agent Noggins…You were looking for more information on Booth and me, and I was wondering if you found anything of _interest_?" Brennan was feeling a little on the ornery side and decided that, since it had worked on Booth, she would practice her new-found _assumption_ skills and conduct a little experiment. She wanted to see if she could get Noggins to give himself away, just as Booth had done when she questioned him about his plans to break the news on Michael's appointment by the University.

"Umm," Noggins could feel beads of sweat starting to form at his temples. "Well, Dr. Brennan, I was just looking at your closed cases…some of them…to see if you and Agent Booth…to see if…" he was stuttering and suddenly realized that when he accessed their history, it must have alerted someone who, in turn, contacted them to inform them of the inquiries made into their past cases. "I wanted to be able to help…if I could…"

"Bones," Booth approached, "leave the kid alone." The senior agent frowned at his sly partner, knowing exactly what she was doing, but recognizing immediately that it was no different than what he'd done to poor J.J. back home at the lab. He knew that Brennan was having her own kind of fun at Noggins' expense. "C'mon…" he tugged at her arm gently, shaking his head at the same time.

"IFoundOutThatYouTwoAreInAPersonalRelationshipToge therWithSpecialPermissionFromThePresident!" Noggins burst out, running the words together in sudden fear that if he didn't disclose his findings, she would somehow hurt him…He remembered the warnings that Booth had given the other officers down at the site early that morning, pertaining to Brennan's ability _and tendency_ to hurt people. _And_ he had read that she had once shot Booth. _And_ that she was a black belt in several forms of martial arts. _And_ that she was suspected of blackmailing an unnamed Federal Agent, but was deemed untouchable and shortly thereafter became Booth's partner. _And_ that her father was a suspected murderer who was found Not Guilty only after she tried to deflect the blame onto herself by introducing a shadow of a doubt into the jurors' minds. _And_ that she had a higher top-secret-clearance level than her partner. Frankly, Junior Agent Edward Noggins was afraid of Dr. Brennan.

Booth paused in his tracks when Noggins blurted out their _not-so-secret_ secret. He glanced around and didn't see anyone of interest, and it seemed no one was really paying attention to the trio as they stood down at the end of the hallway. "Yeah, about that…"

Noggins interrupted. "No, I saw the notes. I saw that your boss had it notated that you were instructed to play-down your personal relationship, to not make it obvious. And may I congratulate you on your ruse… You fooled everyone this morning. We had heard that the two of you bicker a lot. And that you were fiercely protective of each other, but that last bit about the relationship was conveniently _omitted_ from the briefing that we'd received from Kingsley."

"What file are you reading that you saw the notes that were made by Cullen regarding our instructions for discreetness?" Now it was Booth's turn to intimidate the young agent, only now it wasn't about play; Booth wanted to know _exactly_ what Noggins had been reading.

"I didn't mean to pry, Agent Booth, honest. I just got so wrapped up reading about the two of you, it was like reading an adventure novel… and one file led to another then to another. Then I read that y'all had a private meeting with the President and Director Williams, where you received a special pardon and permission to enter into a personal relationship." He looked guiltily at the intimidating look, understanding why a criminal would crumble under such pressure, explaining the success rate that Booth had at gaining confessions from suspects. "Since I am an Administrative Agent as well as a Junior Field Agent, I have access to some things that not everyone else can read. That's how I know about the conversation Cullen had with Kingsley, when he promised to ask the two of you keep your relationship somewhat under wraps, to avoid a rush of agents here from submitting requests for an override as you two did." He shrugged, feeling defeated. "I'm sorry Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan…" Eddie Noggins was certain he'd signed his own dismissal letters by looking into the history of the FBI's top partners, and he waited for the fall of the metaphorical guillotine.

"You share this information with anyone else?" Booth asked point blank, his voice low as he stood close to the younger man.

"No, sir. No need to."

"Good," Booth nodded, hiding the smirk he felt trying to break free, "let's keep it that way, huh? If people find out on their own, so be it, but let's not make an announcement, m'K?"

"You got it; I'm good at keeping my mouth shut." Noggins was eager to assure his superior that he was a man of honor, someone they could trust.

"Good man," Booth slapped him on his back, smiling just like nothing had happened. "Now, we gotta get going. You mind calling Rice for me? I don't think he likes me much…" Booth winked as Noggins agreed to make the call, and the partners continued the short distance to the stairwell they'd opted to take, rather than the elevator.

"Ya'know, Bones, you're getting _a little_ too good at that." Booth smiled as they walked down the stairs.

"Too good at what, Booth?" she wrinkled her eyebrows as she glanced over her shoulder as him as he followed behind. "And besides, is there such a thing as being _'too good'_ at anything?"

"You're getting too good at making people fess to things you don't know for certain…you did it to me earlier and you just did it to that poor kid." He laughed, knowing that she was having fun.

"I'm just putting into action, all the things you've taught me during our time as partners: powers of observation, intimidating stances, assumptions to already knowing the truth when questioning, bullying…"

"What? I don't bully!"

"Oh, you're a bully, Booth…when the occasion calls for it, you're the meanest kid on the playground." She grinned as she slipped into the passenger side of the SUV, pulling her jacket closed to keep out the chill.

Booth pouted as he slid into his seat, glaring at his partner's smugness. "I'm no bully…" he mumbled.

"Don't pout, Booth, it detracts from your scariness," Brennan teased as they pulled into traffic and turned towards the University. "Though I _do_ find it…adorable when your lower lip protrudes like that."

"OH _HELL_ NO. I am _NOT_ 'adorable', Bones. Puppies are adorable. Kids are adorable. _You're_ adorable when you snore. But men are _NOT_ 'adorable'."

"What?! I _do not_ snore!"

**Postscript A/N**

**Ahhh, I do love Bickering B&B. **

**So, the gang is finally in town; their secret is no longer secret to at least one FBI Agent; Lorelei at the Café recognizes Brennan, but doesn't know from where; they have a couple of suspects; Brennan knows that Michael Stires is coming, but they really didn't discuss that in further depth… **

**Not a lot happened in this chapter, but at the same time, there was quite a bit of little goings-on. **

**Please review & let me know your thoughts. I appreciate it. **

**Oh, and to my new 'friend' "GUEST", (and I use the term 'friend' very loosely), yeah, you know who you are – you left me 15 **_**bashing**_** reviews in one day…you don't need to review anymore. I don't really care if you read or not, I don't care if you find fault with my mechanics and grammar or if you think I write OOC, or if you think my scenarios are too far-fetched… What I DO think, is that you can fuck off and go to hell. Since I couldn't respond to you directly, seeing as how you were too cowardly to sign your criticisms, I had to do it here. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Hello and welcome back. **

**Yes, I know it's been a REALLY long time since my last DPO chapter. All I can do is ask your forgiveness. It's been ridiculously busy at work over the past 6 weeks and when I work on a computer for 10-12 hours a day, I really don't want to come home and spend too much time writing. That being said, I did manage to crank out two brief One Shots over the past six weeks, and I hope you all enjoyed them. If you haven't checked them out, please do so and let me know your thoughts! **

**This is a relatively short chapter; it's about half of what I had originally planned for chapter 8, but I am beginning to fear for my safety... If I don't post a chapter soon, I think there is a band of FF readers out there planning to hunt me down and slay me... OK, maybe it's not that bad, but I do want to give you a little something to hold you over until I've had the opportunity to finish editing the next portion. **

**I hope you approve. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones or its characters, but this story is ALL MINE! **

An unsuspecting onlooker may have come to the conclusion that Angela hadn't seen Brennan in months rather than merely a couple of days, based solely on the reception that the artist gave to the scientist when the three new arrivals finally reached the 'Body Farm'.

"Sweetie!" Angela threw her arms around her best friend, practically knocking Brennan into the shallow poor-excuse-for-a-grave dimple in the earth, next to which the anthropologist was squatting while making final observations before removing a severed finger from the partially frozen dirt. When Angela refocused her attention, she saw what held Brennan's interest so intently that the normally observant woman was caught off-guard as Angela approached, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Uh…Hi…" Brennan's forehead creased as she released her friend from a confused embrace. "Is everything alright, Ange?"

"Of course it is…I'm just happy to see you, that's all..." She looked around at the scattering of placement flags and shivered, motioning to the field while ignoring her friend's look of bewilderment. "And all of _this_…is very depressing…"

"Angela, a person was dismembered and buried; I wouldn't expect it to be an exciting site for you… You are very sensitive to these types of things, you know." Brennan's detached tone may have insulted some people who didn't know the scientist. In fact, there was a time that Angela herself may have taken offence. Over the course of their friendship, however, the ladies learned how to accept each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies, and they appreciated that they were both free to speak their mind openly without fear of hard feelings.

Angela sighed and shifted her weight to one hip as she scanned the area. Hodgins and Finn had already taken their places squatting beside little flags, clipboards and pens in hand and evidence bags within arms' reach for when they were ready to remove the body parts.

"Well," the artist began, as her friend was consumed once again in the task at hand, "I'm of no use to you right now, so…" she looked around and spotted Booth talking to a couple of other agents, and moreover, she noticed he had a steaming cup of coffee. "So, I am going to just go say hi to Studly and get myself a cup of coffee." She turned back to three scientists and smiled broadly as she pulled her coat a little tighter around her waist, hoping to stave off some of the cold. "You want a cup?"

Having just finished the cup that Booth brought to her earlier, Brennan simply shook her head. "I'm fine, Angela. Thanks anyway." Her attention was back to a partially decomposed forearm as her friend turned away. "Oh, Angela, ask Booth about _Lorelei's_. Its someplace we should go one evening. Maybe tonight if you want..." She spoke distractedly while making notes on her clipboard and turned her back completely, becoming instantly engrossed in her duty.

Without looking up, Brennan spoke to her intern, who was situated not far from where she worked. "Mr. Abernathy, thank you for agreeing to accompany Dr. Hodgins and Angela." Her words were chosen slowly and deliberately as she carefully examined the soil surrounding the victim's dismembered limb. "I expect that your advanced experience and knowledge will be quite useful during the investigation of this case." She paused as she extracted and bagged the evidence, and then proceeded with her expectations for the student. "Once we've recovered all of the body parts and transported them over to the local FBI Forensics Lab, I'd like you begin the x-rays right away. Once those have been completed, I will examine them while you commence with de-fleshing the minimal amounts of soft tissue that remain. Be sure to capture a 3D image of the cranium for Angela to reference until she can handle the skull. I expect that by tomorrow, we should be able to examine the prepared bones, hands-on." She finally raised her eyes and studied the profile of the young intern as he finished a few concluding notes before bagging the contents of the small hole by which he sat. She knew that Finn was actually Cam's intern, but he had proven himself so valuable in the lab in many facets, that he had been adopted – in sorts – into each of the specialized areas of study. Brennan was constantly surprised, _and impressed_, by the young man's abilities to adapt to virtually any circumstance all while taking the pressures of extremely high expectations in stride.

When he turned and met her gaze he smiled, "Yes ma'am, Dr. Brennan." Finn's calm demeanor and easy acceptance of Brennan's directions never wavered as he paused for any further instructions.

Satisfied that he had listened to her directives while working, she smiled tightly and nodded once. With a deep sigh, Brennan pushed herself up and turned to find Agent Rice standing in the near distance. Waving him over, she began barking orders at him before he'd even reached her location.

"I'd like you to collect all the soil within a 6-inch perimeter surrounding this area," she indicated to the hole from which she'd just extracted the first piece of bodily evidence. "You and your team will do the same for each site out of which we remove body parts. Extract the particulates carefully, do _not_ contaminate my evidence; subpar treatment of this crime scene will not be tolerated simply because your agents are not running the investigation." With a raised eyebrow, Brennan met the man's eyes and waited for him to acknowledge her orders. Instead she faced what appeared to be a would-be uncooperative Head of Forensics Agent who stared slack-jawed at the visiting Anthropologist. "Will this be a problem, Agent Rice? Is your team not capable of collecting _dirt_?"

Rice removed his FBI baseball cap and rolled his lips between his teeth before confronting the DC woman, his slow, southern drawl causing his words to sound patronizing. "All due respect, but I dunno who the hell you think you are, Little Miss, but _no one_ comes in here and starts ordering me _or_ my men around. Now, I was amicable enough to offer-up our laboratory facilities for your use and to make my staff available to assist you and your small team, but I'll be damned if…"

Brennan stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them in three strides. "If you call me 'Little Miss' once more, Agent Rice, I will break your arm. Booth doesn't allow me to carry a gun, so I can't threaten to shoot you, but I most _certainly_ can promise bodily harm if you disrespect me again. _**I**_ am in charge of the Forensic Investigation in this case, _not_ you. We are here at _your_ boss's behest, not by my own request, and _certainly_ not by Agent Booth's." She balled her fists at her sides, struggling to maintain the professionalism she knew she needed. "My team and I are contracted by the FBI to provide answers when others cannot, or when others are _perceived_ as incapable of determining the truths that lie within a collection of evidence. If your male pride and stubborn chauvinistic tendencies hinder our success, I promise it will _not_ go unnoted in my findings report." She pinned him with a deadpan glare and waited for his response.

Meanwhile, Booth and Angela were talking with a small gathering of local authorities, brainstorming theories and possible suspects not yet brought in for questioning, when Booth's peripheral vision caught movement in the area where Brennan had been working. Turning in search of his lover, Booth expected to find his fiancee still squatting next to one of the many fluttering flags, perhaps having moved closer to Hodgins or Finn since her last checked on her. Instead, he saw her standing toe-to-toe with her FBI-counterpart, Agent Rice.

"Aww, shit…" He shook his head slowly, taking in her defensive stance, rigid arms at her sides complete with balled fists stopping at her mid-thigh-level. With a heavy sigh, he ignored the gentle giggle that escaped from Angela as he started to stride over in the direction of his short-tempered-girl, hoping he wasn't too late to repair any of the damage she'd just done to the working relationship they were forced into when assigned to this job. He knew the moment she registered his impending approach. To anyone else, the slight shift in her posture may have been unperceivable as her shoulder hitched slightly, but Booth _knew_ his lover and he knew she felt his approach long before she heard or saw him.

The tension between Brennan and Rice was almost palpable, and as Booth sidled up to Brennan, keeping _just enough_ distance between them to avoid possible accusations of inappropriate behavior, he placed an open palm against her upper back gently, just as she was finishing her threat at notating any interferences in her final report.

"Is there a problem over here?" Booth kept his voice even, wanting to instill a sense of calm to his obviously-upset fiancée.

"Seems Agent Rice doesn't want to take direction from me, Booth…" Brennan began, only to be cut off by the impudent Local.

"Actually, Agent Booth, there _is_ a bit of a problem… Your partner seems to think she can just start issuing orders and we will kowtow to her every whim…" He cocked his head slightly, grinning smugly at Brennan while speaking to Booth. "Perhaps because she's such a pretty little thing, she's used t'getting her way…"

Booth physically grabbed Brennan's bicep to hold her still as she start to raise her hand to strike the man in front of her. "Now, now… Bones," he grunted through gritted teeth, "relax. I'm sure Rice didn't mean that to be as _condescending_ as it sounded." He pinned Rice with a hard stare, "Did ya, pal?" It was more a statement than a question and he saw the Agent shift his weight uncomfortably under Booth's darkened eyes.

"Of course I didn't mean to be condescending. The Doctor's just a little touchy; that's all. Women 'round here would recognize that as a compliment, not an insult." His wary gaze darted between the partners, not wanting to bring any trouble down on his head, especially since Brennan reminded him that Director Kingsley had done the beckoning to the DC District Director in order to arrange the joining of forces on this case. He bit his tongue and nodded at Brennan, "I meant no offense, Dr. Brennan."

Recognizing that the FBI Forensics Lead was swallowing his own pride in this case, Booth loosened his hold on Brennan's arm and locked her eyes with his. "There ya go, Bones, see that? Rice didn't mean any harm." He moved his steady eyes back to Rice, silently acknowledging his fellow agent, though he felt no real kinship to the man, and conveying his appreciation at Rice's withdrawal from the confrontation through a tiny nod. "I'd, uh, suggest that you instruct your team to follow Dr. Brennan's lead and her directions to the letter. The Jeffersonian team is accustomed to receiving a certain level of _competency_ from the law enforcement charged with assisting them; they will expect the evidence to be collected under specified conditions and without argument." As he spoke, he nodded to his three friends who had, over the course of the quiet conversation, drifted closer to the confrontation and were flanking partners protectively. "Treat them with the respect they deserve and you will, in turn, receive the same treatment." From the corner of his eye, he could see his girlfriend and her colleagues nod in agreement to what Booth was proposing.

Rice hitched his pants slightly and puffed out his chest as he moved his eyes slowly across the small gathering of scientists standing before him. "Of course…My apologies, Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, for any misunderstandings." He nodded to them each in turn. "I will assemble my team to collect the soil as you specified."

"Thank you." Brennan's response was stiff and forced, but she knew she had to get control over her temper in order to complete a successful investigation and get back home, where she and Booth could get back to their normal routine, in their normal setting, and prepare for the upcoming holiday which she knew was important to her partner. "I am sorry if my orders came across…bluntly. The local PD officers with whom we usually work are familiar with my preferences after eight years of partnership… Sometimes, when we're _elsewhere_, I forget the social parameters that Booth has set forth for me to follow."

She clenched her jaw in frustrated resignation and her partner struggled to hide his satisfied smirk at her admission; then his smile faded as she continued, clinical and bossy as per usual. "Nevertheless, I will expect _nothing_ less than perfection while handling the evidence and detriments during this investigation. If your team delivers inferior results, rest assured that my report will include the names and actions of any of the offending officers or agents." She spun on her heels, pushed through her parting teammates, and marched back over to another flag where she squatted down immediately.

With a deep huff, Booth turned back to Rice with a slightly-apologetic look and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "What can I say? She's a perfectionist." He let his gaze admire his girl's movements as she crab-walked sideways around a dimple in the earth that contained yet another body part. He caught himself, realizing he was staring and moved his deep brown eyes back to Rice's hesitant glare. "She's a genius… and she's the most accomplished scientist in a male-dominated field of study. Don't test her – you will lose, Agent Rice. Every time."

Knowing that Booth was speaking the truth, Rice simply nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets and extracted a pair of latex gloves. Turning back to his team, he called a couple of guys over and began ordering them on what to collect and how to collect it. Once he was satisfied with the way his men were working alongside the scientists, he rejoined Booth where the striking agent appeared to be almost standing guard over his partner, while simultaneously providing her with a fairly wide berth.

The men stood side by side in silence for several moments before Booth spoke. "She means well, Rice. She's just misunderstood." His eyes never left his partner's back as he studied the way she hunched over the hipbone she was working to uncover.

"Well," Rice shrugged. "I'll say this, she's a spitfire… Can't imagine what kinda guy'll ever be able to reign her in… No wonder she don't have a ring on 'er finger yet… She'd turn everything into a fuckin' pissing match…" He shook his head, but felt a shiver run up his spine at the sudden movement of Booth's head spinning around to face him.

"Ah, she wears a ring, alright, just not while she's working out in the field… She wears it on a chain around her neck when she's working. Dr. Brennan has a _very_ devoted man in her life, and if she ever hears you say anything like that, she will likely hurt you. For that matter, if _I_ hear you say anything like that about my partner again, _I _will hurt you. Got it? I don't tolerate people disrespecting my partner – fellow Agent or not, no one has the right to say anything derogatory about Dr. Brennan. She's solved a helluva lot more cases that you have, Rice; I've seen your numbers.". Pressing his lips into a tight line, Booth turned away, leaving the surprised man behind as he strode over to stand a little closer to his girl, pulling his notecards out of his pocket as he moved. "You got anything new for me yet, Bones?"

Brennan recognized his terse tone of voice and turned to glance over her shoulder. "I told you earlier, Booth, I probably won't have anything more for you until after we examine the remains closer. You hovering over me will not make the facts reveal themselves any faster…" She turned her attention back to the bone in her hands and slid it into an evidence bag carefully.

"I'm not _hovering_, Bones… I'm just…_sticking close_." He shrugged as he put away his index cards and shoved his hands into his pockets impatiently. "You need anything?"

Rising slowly from her semi-seated position, she approached Booth and stood directly in front of him. "Booth, I'm sorry I lost my temper over there with Rice. I didn't mean to embarrass you." She locked his eyes with her own bright blues, asking for forgiveness without really asking.

Unable to resist reaching out to her, Booth reached up with both hands and straightened her collar. "You don't need to apologize, Bones, you didn't embarrass me." He fiddled with the floppy material at the neck of her Jeffersonian-issued field coat and tugged her closer by a couple of inches, still maintaining an appearance of platonic actions. Looking deep into her concerned eyes, he took a deep breath. "But I _am _a little worried, Bones…" He let his hands fall away from her coat and he craned his head, ever so slightly, so he was talking closer to her. Then he decided they needed a little walk, to have a little bit of privacy amidst the over-crowded area. He placed his hand loosely against her lower back, claiming _his spot_, and ushered her gently as he voiced his concern. "You've been kinda _touchy_ so far on this trip… I mean, I know men have hit on you lots of times before… Hell, I've lost count how many guys've tried to catch your eye… And a lot of 'em have done so with cheap pick-up lines and names; like Davis' line about you being more beautiful in person than on your books, and Rice calling you 'Little Miss', shit like that… but you've never been so aggressive about it." He stopped walking and looked at her carefully, circling to stand before her and gauging her reaction to his observations.

She lowered her eyes to her gloved hands, flexing her fingers inside the latex. "I wasn't going to say anything…. Because I don't know if I'm taking this too hard…" she swallowed thickly and glanced sideways, ensuring that no one was close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. The action in and of itself was quite ironic, given what she was about to admit doing, but she turned back and raised her eyes to her partner's dark gaze. "I…_overheard_ a conversation, Booth…"

When she paused for several moments, Booth prompted her gently, "Oooh-kay… And which conversation was that, Bones?"

Huffing in frustration, she rolled her neck, stretching her muscles slightly before settling her nervous eyes back on her fiancée. "When I used the ladies room," she pointed up to the small office building on site, near which the coffee tent had been established, "I walked in on two ladies talking while they were using the facilities." She dropped her hands to her sides and shifted her weight to one hip as she chose her wording before continuing. "I wasn't going to pay attention to them; I chose the far stall and locked myself in there to take care of my business, but then I heard my name mentioned…" She sucked her lower lip into her mouth then continued. "One lady was saying that she wanted to meet me, because she was a big fan of my writing. Then the other lady called out from her stall that when we met, she was going to inquire about my kidnapping…" Instantly, she saw Booth's hackles raise at the possibility that someone would broach such a sensitive topic with a woman they didn't even know.

"Bones…" he warned gently, letting her know he didn't agree with the possibility of her discussing the subject with strangers, especially given the fact that she still struggled with occasional nightmares, not to mention she hadn't even been able to spend the night in her own apartment yet.

"I didn't say anything, Booth; I just listened." She shivered in the chilled December temperature and smiled appreciatively when Booth immediately removed his own coat to drape across her shoulders. "Thanks," she smiled. "Anyway, I didn't say anything, but the first lady, the one who said she was a fan of my books, apparently didn't know about the kidnapping and questioned the other lady, '_what do you mean?_' she asked. And the lady who knew about the abduction told her, '_yeah, earlier this year, Brennan was kidnapped and tortured while being held hostage._' The woman then went on to say that the kidnapper demanded money and ransom and who-knows-what-else. But she finished the discussion by saying that for '_someone who supposedly knows multiple forms of martial arts, Brennan sure didn't fight back against her attacker_'. The first lady said that she, too, would be interested in hearing my story and that it's a shame for me to be in this kind of profession if I can't take care of myself…"

Brennan paused her rapid dissertation breathlessly and searched Booth's eyes for understanding; she saw what she recognized to be sheer ire. She hoped he wasn't mad that she had remained in the bathroom while the women talked, and she also hoped that he wasn't upset with her for sharing her story with him. He put her fears to rest almost immediately.

"I don't want you to listen to bullshit gossip like that, Bones. Those women didn't know _jack_ about what you went through and they don't _need_ to know either. It's none of their Goddamned business."

"But, you don't think they're right, do you, Booth? You don't think that I'm in the wrong profession, do you?" She wanted an honest answer from her partner, despite the fact that she thought she was well-qualified to be in her position. There was a touch of vulnerable discontent in her voice as she searched for the truth that she knew her lover would give.

"Fuck no; I _know_ you're right profession. You're doing _exactly _what you've trained your whole life to do, Baby." He grabbed her biceps and held them in his wide hands, firm and gentle at the same time. "You were abducted at night, while you were sleeping, and _then _drugged. Baker did that because he knew he didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of beating you if you were awake. You would've kicked his ass from DC to California with ease." He stepped closer, no longer caring who saw, because he knew his partner needed reassurance that she was _meant_ to be his partner. "Bones, you handle yourself better than any other woman I've ever met. You know what you want and what you don't want… You don't stand for people's shit, and you _shouldn't_. If people start asking you questions, then you tell them to mind their own fucking business and if they don't like it then they can go to hell. Your kidnapping is nothing to be gossiped about; it was a traumatic experience for everyone involved, _especially_ you. And if they are so callous that they'd actually bring the subject up to you, then you don't need fans like them; and there's nothing wrong with telling them as much."

Brennan tilted her head sideways and studied the one person who'd been a pillar of strength for her through so much, not the least of all was her abduction. She could hear the conviction in his assurances and see the eager plea in his eyes for her to believe him. She felt the corners of her mouth raise, not quite into a smile, but into less of a frown. "Thank you, Booth… I guess that's why I've been so sensitive to what people have been saying to me… They seem to do things a little differently down here…" She looked back and saw the local FBI team collecting evidence. "I mean, they are doing a fine job, but they seem so…I don't know… less rigid about protocol, I guess…" She turned her attention back to Booth and found that he was watching her rather than observing the team scattered across the wooded field.

He grinned and squeezed her upper arm once more before releasing it. "We're just used to our own routine, Bones. And we're used to the people we work with knowing what we like and how you prefer to have things done." His eyes were warm and caring as he leaned close. "Why don't you go finish up so we can get back to the room for a bit before going out and grabbing a late dinner, huh?"

She smirked, knowing _exactly _what her partner wanted by aiming to go back to their room for a little while. "I'll see what I can do, Booth, but it's hardly something I can rush through."

"Yeah, I know," his voice was low and he leaned closer than he should have, if they'd been 'just partners', but Booth knew, deep down, that their cover was going to be blown real soon…especially after he made a call to Cullen with his opinion of having to pretend to be something they weren't. "You go ahead and do what you need to, Bones. I'm gonna go make a couple of calls." He raised one side of his mouth into the crooked smile that he knew she adored. "I love you, Baby."

Feeling her cheeks flush like a teenager sneaking around doing forbidden things, Brennan glanced sideways quickly before stretching up on her tippy toes to peck her partner on the cheek. She turned and rushed away, marching with purpose back over to the field containing the evidence, sneaking a quick peek over her shoulder at her partner as he remained standing in place, smiling as he watched her retreat.

She didn't need to verbally respond to his declaration of love, he already knew how she felt; she made it obvious to him in her actions. With a cocky puff of his chest, Booth pulled out his phone and dialed his boss, strolling slowly around the perimeter of the scene, keeping out of hearing-range of anyone who might be nosy enough to listen.

**Postscript A/N **

**I hope that was enough to wet your whistle and I hope you enjoyed it. **

**Please take a moment and let me know your thoughts. Your reviews always help stoke my Muse and hopefully she will feel enough spark to fight through these long, hellacious hours at work! **

**Thank you, as always. **

**peace & love my friends**

**~jazzy**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N **

**Hello and welcome back! Happy Labor Day to my American readers and a very Happy Monday to everyone else! **

**And HAPPY SEPTEMBER! Finally we have a new season coming up. **

****raises a glass** **

**Here's to a successful and **_**hopefully fulfilling**_** Season Nine!**

**Thank you all for your patience and kind words in reviews & PMs. I really appreciate it! **

**Several people have asked me about **_**Letters from Maluku**_**, and let me assure you, I WILL be updating that again soon, as well. I had mentioned in my previous chapters about my Real Life world interfering with my writing time, and unfortunately that's still going on – extended work hours make it so I don't want to look at the computer when I come home. **

**This chapter, I managed to crank out on vacation this past week. A portion of it was almost complete, because it was supposed to be part of chapter eight, but I did some editing and added to it, making it chapter nine in itself. **

**I hope you like it! **

**Please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I STILL do not own anything to do with Bones – hard to believe, I know…. LOL **

The sun was already sinking well below the horizon by the time the team had completed the excavation of the body parts and surrounding soil samples. The large gathering of officers had thinned out considerably, much to Booth's relief as he helped his colleagues load the last of the equipment trunks into the back of the forensics transport vans. He turned and spotted his partner speaking with Finn a short distance away and he approached them, anxious to steal his partner and take her back to their room for a little while. He really wanted to kick his work shoes off, take a hot shower and throw on some comfortable clothes before going out for something to eat. Of course, taking a hot shower, in his mind, also included getting his partner naked and pressed up against his body. He knew they wouldn't have very much time before dinner, but Booth would welcome even a little bit of intimacy after such an ass-long day of standing around in the winter weather, in the middle of the Body Farm, having all his senses assaulted by the unpleasant odor of decaying flesh carried on the ever-changing chilled breeze.

"Mr. Abernathy," Booth heard Brennan instructing her student. "It's getting late and I assume you've not had anything to eat for most of the day, like the rest of us. Why don't you join us for dinner and you can proceed with the x-rays first thing in the morning. I won't be in the lab until late morning, as I will be joining Booth for some further interviews. That should afford you ample time to then assemble the bones appropriately for my examination." She turned as she felt her partner approach and she smiled up at his handsomely chiseled face before turning back to her intern. "Of course," she tilted her head, "if you would rather dine elsewhere, I do not want you to feel obligated to join us."

"Dr. Brennan," Finn responded kindly, "I'd love to join y'all for supper, thanks. As long as no one else objects…?" He smiled, and then eyed Booth wearily, still not entirely comfortable around the Agent on a social level. When he saw no objections from his mentor's partner, however, he nodded once and excused himself, giving them some privacy as he moved to join Hodgins over by the scientist's rented vehicle.

Booth grinned down at his fiancée, "That was very nice of you, Bones, not making him work by himself all night." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her reprimand of his initial assumption, but she didn't.

"Well, there was a time I would have expected him to accompany the evidence back to the lab and work until the task was complete." She shrugged slightly as she looked up into the deep pools of chocolate that she'd learned to love long ago, though she denied it for longer than she liked to admit. "_But_ the FBI forensics team has assured me they will store everything in a temperature-controlled environment and will not touch anything until the morning. Besides, recent months have taught me that there is more to living than work. Isn't that what you've been trying to teach me for _years_, Booth?"

"And here I thought you never listened to me, Bones" he grinned as he tossed his arm over her shoulders casually, pulling her along so they could join their friends near the parked cars. "Makes me wonder what else you may have learned from me…"

"I could show you a couple of things that I've learned…" she smiled saucily up at her partner as she leaned into his side just a bit, "But you'll have to wait until _after_ dinner…"

"Mmmm…" Booth growled quietly, the sound emanating from his chest as he pinned her with darkening eyes and tightened his loose grip of her shoulders ever so slightly. "I can hardly wait, Baby."

"Don't call me 'Baby' in public, Booth." Her reprimand was gentle though she knew _pointless_ in the grand scheme of things; Booth would continue to call her whatever he wanted to, no matter how often she balked. When she looked back up at him, she realized he had ignored her slight warning and was, instead, focused on her previous statement. His devilish grin promised Brennan that he was going to make her keep her promise, and a shiver raked through her body as the prospect of their evening. With a knowing smile, she suggested, "we _could_ skip dinner all together, Booth…just retire to the room….?"

"_Hell_ no, I'm starved, Bones." He laughed, knowing that she was joking, and he dropped his arm from around her shoulders, giving her a playful shove. "Besides you're gonna need sustenance…"

**B/B/B/B**

After ensuring that Finn's room had been properly paid for at the neighboring hotel and arranging for the intern to meet them at their lodging in 45 minutes, Brennan walked across the shared parking lot to Ramsey's Inn and Loft and headed upstairs to join her fiancée for a quick shower and to change.

She stopped at Angela's room first, to see what they had decided for dinner.

"Mr. Abernathy will be joining us for dinner this evening, Angela," Brennan began in her typical formal tone, even though she was talking to a long-time friend. "Do you or Jack have any preference of where you'd like to eat?"

"Well, while you were all playing with your dismembered body parts, Booth told me about _Lorelei's_. He said they served food until 8:00 and there was music afterwards… He described it as a pretty artsy-fartsy kinda place and that sounds like it would be right up my alley, and Hodgie doesn't care where he eats, as long as he eats…" She smiled broadly, hoping that Brennan would be agreeable to re-visiting the place at which she and Booth had eaten lunch. She noticed a quizzical look cross behind her best-friend's eyes and then instantly disappear as the anthropologist nodded.

"That is fine. Their food was quite enjoyable and their coffee blend was excellent." She glanced at her watch. "Mr. Abernathy will be here in about 40 minutes, he is going to meet us downstairs."

"Sounds good, Bren. Jack's just taking a shower now then we'll be ready, so we'll see you downstairs."

As she watched her friend walk down the hallway towards the room she shared with her partner, Angela was reminded of just how far Brennan had evolved in the years since they'd met. The artist had always admired Brennan's dedication to her job; the passion she held for finding the truth, whether the bones of the victim she was studying were two days old or two hundred years old, Temperance Brennan immersed herself in her work. She involved herself fully, often becoming so absorbed that she would forget to eat and remember to sleep only when her body was ready to collapse.

_Then_, Angela mused, _FBI Special Agent Seeley J Studly-Booth entered the good doctor's life and turned Brennan's organized, compartmentalized world upside down in a beautiful, though often hectic and slightly terrifying way_. _And now_, Angela sighed in thought, _the once-distant scientist who had denounced love, repeatedly criticized monogamy, and openly admonished the 'archaic notion of marriage' was in a happy and seemingly fulfilling relationship with, __and __engaged to, her partner of more than eight years. _

Angela felt a swell of admiration at the changes in her friend – perhaps most strikingly apparent was the behavior that contributed to actions like the invitation she had extended to Finn. There was a time when Dr. Temperance Brennan did _not_ socially associate with her interns; they were not 'worthy' of her attention in many ways. In more recent years, however, Brennan had been treating her interns kinder and kinder. She, of course, still expected perfection from them, but at the same time, she seemed to have come to the realization that there are very few in the world with the intellect that she possessed, and Angela surmised that Brennan had come to terms with other peoples' brains not processing information as quickly or analytically as hers did. As she watched her friend disappear into the room at the far end of the corridor, Angela turned back to her own room, closing the door quietly and began to prepare for dinner.

**B/B/B/B**

Closely following his partner into _Lorelei's_, Booth cupped Brennan's hips with both hands, holding her squarely in front of him as he leaned in for a quick peck against the sweet skin of her neck. "Mmm…I love you, Baby," he mumbled into the kiss, causing goose-bumps to erupt from her silky smoothness. He flexed his fingers against her brown legging-style pants that hugged her curves perfectly and grinned at the slight blush that crept up her neck. Booth knew that although his girlfriend had acclimated fairly quickly to his repeated displays of affection, she was still getting used to it happening in public and so randomly. While Booth was not into excessive public displays, he definitely enjoyed catching her off-guard from time to time, and tonight as they exited the SUV, he simply couldn't take his eyes off her, so he could easily blame _her _for his tactile expressiveness.

Booth let his mind wander back to their room, just 20 minutes earlier.

_Following her quick shower, Brennan had pulled her hair up into a carefree ponytail, high on her head, and her bangs, along with a few unruly wisps of chestnut hair, framed her pale face adorably. She snugged into a pair of dark brown leggings and brown leather boots that came up to her knees, and then pulled on an aqua-marine sweater that hung down just about to her mid-hip. The color of her top made her eyes seem impossibly blue, and Booth's breath hitched when he watched her getting dressed. (__**And**__ he didn't miss the light turquoise lacy bra and matching thongs she had pulled on before covering everything up with her winter attire, which, he knew, was a vision that would plague him all evening, until he could get her back to their room and peel those clothes off her body once again.) _

"_You don't want your coat, Bones? It's pretty cold out there," he questioned her while he pulled on his own leather jacket, before they left their room. _

"_No, we'll be going from the truck to the restaurant, so we won't be outside for long. Besides this sweater is plenty warm," she smiled at his concern and stood in front of him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "And if I get too cold, you'll keep me warm," she smiled as she rested her cheek against the front of his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. _

"_Always, Baby," he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, taking a lungful of the sweet smell of her shampoo and body wash as it mixed with her own bodily scent that he had simply come to recognize as 'Bones'. "C'mon, they're probably all downstairs waiting for us," he said, as he reluctantly unwrapped his arms from where they were locked around his partner. "We'll continue this later…" he added with a smile as they made their exit._

The tiny café was packed, and Booth noticed that the owners had set up some additional tables for the dinner/evening entertainment crowd. At lunchtime there were only about a half-dozen tables in the center of the dining area, but for dinner, he counted four more tiny round tables fit in between the permanent tables and he chuckled when he spotted some collapsible tray tables tucked sporadically against the walls with folding chairs squeezed in.

_Most definitely a mom-and-pop kinda place_, he mused silently. _This place is great_.

Looking around, Brennan realized there were no tables available and turned to look at Booth. "There doesn't seem to be a place to eat, Booth. I guess we should have come earlier, or on a less-busy night, perhaps…" Her forehead wrinkled into her trademark 'V' as she took one more visual sweep of the small restaurant.

"Nonsense," Booth said with a grin. "You want the coffeehouse experience?" He nodded to the back wall, which was lined with extra-wide, overstuffed lounge chairs, loveseats and rollaway office chairs. "Let's go grab a couple of those seats back there. We can eat and then just keep those seats for the music."

Just as Brennan was turning to face Angela and the boys, to gain their approval for the only seats currently available, they were all greeted by the familiar smile of the owner, who they'd met earlier in the day.

"Welcome back! I'm so glad y'all came back this evenin'!" Lorelei held a pot of steaming coffee in one hand and a carefree, though attentive look on her face. "I'm afraid that if y'all wanna eat, you'll have to use your laps as your table tops," she giggled as she indicated to the very same seats that Booth was just pointing out to Brennan. "I told ya'll tonight's entertainment was a popular group," her smile reached all the way up to her eyes, showing the pride she felt in knowing that her booking was well-received by locals and visitors alike. "Is that gonna be alright, folks?"

"It'll be perfect," Booth replied on behalf of the group. "My partner and I brought along some friends," he smiled and moved slightly to the side, though his movements were restricted by the tight space there at the entrance. Turning his attention back to their colleagues, he made generic introductions. "Guys, this is Lorelei, the owner. Bones and I had the pleasure of meeting her earlier today."

Angela reached out to shake hands, and although she realized at seeing only one other server moving between the tightly packed tables that the restaurateur was busy, the artist was unwilling to not take the opportunity show her gratitude towards a businesswoman supporting the arts. "Your place is awesome, Lorelei. As soon as Booth described it to me when we got into town this afternoon, I _knew_ we had to come tonight."

Immediately liking the new-comer, Lorelei blushed. "Well, it might not be as fancy as some o' those places in the big cities, but my husband and I are sure proud of what we have here. And I certainly hope you find something that you'll 'njoy." She gave a little tug on Angela's hand, pulling her along gently, "Come now, let's get y'all seated and outta that doorway…You'll have to excuse the tight quarters, we try to accommodate as many people as possible…" Lorelei's voice trailed off as she led the way for the single-file line of patrons following close behind.

Brennan smiled at Booth as Hodgins, and then Finn, followed Angela's lead, walking between the parted-partners towards the back of the little café. "I think Ange really likes it already, Booth," she grinned as she felt his sure hand land on the small of her back, ushering her to follow their team. The anthropologist turned slightly and looked up at Booth with a question in her eyes. "Booth, what did you mean when you described this place to Angela as 'artsy-fartsy'? What does that mean?"

Booth shrugged, "I dunno… just, you know, _artsy-fartsy_." He motioned for her to continue forward, but she turned to face him fully.

"Booth," she gave him an exasperated sigh, "you can't _define _a phrase or word by using the _same _phrase or word. What does 'artsy-fartsy' mean?"

"It just means… artistic...creative...hip..._Bohemian_. That kinda thing." He pinned her with a questioning look. "Can we go sit now, Bones?"

"You're making that up," she was undeterred.

"Making what up? 'Artsy-fartsy'? No I'm not. It's a real thing…"

"When we discussed this place with each other, you described it as 'quaint'. I've never heard you use that other phrase before, Booth…" Her confused blues bounced back and forth between his deep browns.

"I dunno, Bones. It just," he tilted his head in consideration as he wondered _why _they were having this discussion in the middle of a crowded cafe. "It just seemed like a good description that would convince Angela that this is her kinda place. You know, 'cause she's artistic."

"I'm artistic _too_, you know, Booth." Brennan creased her brow in curiosity as she waited for acknowledgement that he didn't know she wanted.

"Look, Bones, I'm not sayin' you can't draw; but ya know…you're not _artsy_."

"I'll have you know I am _very _talented," Brennan defended herself defiantly, lifting her chin in a fashion that he'd grown to recognize during their time together over the past eight years.

"That's not what I mean, Babe." The agent was getting exasperated by his partner's insolence. "It's just…. you know what? Forget it, Bones. I'll make sure to describe something _you _like as artsy-fartsy next time. OK? I didn't mean anything by it…" He tried to turn her around and direct her to their seating, still not totally understanding her angle, but he decided that he'd talk to her about it another time.

"I still think you're making that word up," the scientist mumbled as she let her partner usher her forward.

"Look it up, Bones, it's real..." He grinned at the back of his stubborn fiancée's head.

"Oh, believe me, I will..." Her statement was determined, and it was obvious to Booth that she'd committed the phrase to memory to refer to at a later time.

**B/B/B/B**

Finn had claimed a high-back rolling desk chair stationed beside a small tray table. On the other side of the tiny folding table were two small loveseats; Hodgins and Angela took the first, so Hodgins was sitting closest to Finn, and Brennan and Booth took the second, placing the two best friends next to each other so they could talk, and situating Booth on the far side of the group. Deciding it would be too difficult to eat a knife-and-fork kind of meal on their laps, the five friends made more navigable choices that would be easily consumed as finger-food. When they found out that the small establishment served alcohol, the ladies each ordered wine while Booth and Hodgins ordered beer; Finn stuck with his southern roots and ordered a sweet tea.

"I love this kind of place, Bren," Angela said eagerly. "There is such a sense of openness and….just…" she searched for the right words and found that she was actually struggling to voice her thoughts. "I dunno, a feeling of acceptance, no matter who you are… Someone could come in here – somebody who lives paycheck to paycheck, hand to mouth – and not be treated any differently than someone who is so monetarily set that they never have to work again a day in their lives. There's a sense of community that brings people together regardless of different backgrounds when they share the same respect for local arts like music." She smiled absently as she looked around the crowded room and turned back to her best friend. "Thanks, Brennan. I'm glad you guys were fine with coming here tonight." The artist reached for her friend's hand and held it, but only briefly, before letting go to pick up her wine glass from the floor between their seats and sat back against her husband, who'd draped his arm across the back of the seat.

As dinner service wrapped up, Lorelei took to the center of the intimate stage and gained the attention of her wide variety of patrons, smiling at the familiar faces of regulars and studying the expressions of the many first-timers who were filling her dining room. "Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight to support one of the finest trios we've ever had grace our tiny stage. Many of you have seen them around town, oftentimes performing individually or with other groups. But when they come together, like you're about to see tonight, they make magic with their harmonies, personalities and talents. As always, coffee will be available at the counter during the performance, self-service and for donations. All proceeds will go straight to the musicians, so thank you in advance for your generosity this evening. Desserts will be available at intermission; Walt made his famous peanut butter pie and key lime trifle." She beamed at the approving oohs and aahs from their locals. "They have shortened their name to ease with future billings, so now, without further ado, I give you _Polyphony_..." She smiled at three young men, perhaps in their early-to-mid twenties, as they came on stage, carrying guitars and grinning appreciatively at the warm welcome they were receiving.

Settling against Booth, Brennan rested her head against his shoulder as she looked up at him warmly. She felt him tighten his arm around her and she smiled. "Thank you, Booth."

"For what?" he asked quietly, unsure of her meaning.

She studied his face, admiring the way the shadows from the now-lowered lights played against his sharp, masculine features. She felt her chest swell with warmth that she was still struggling to understand and she placed her open hand on his thigh. Shrugging one shoulder slightly she rested against him further. "Just thanks…"

Recognizing that Brennan was at a loss for words, Booth simply flexed his arm and palmed her hip. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and inhaled slowly. "You're welcome, Bones. Whatever the reason, you're _always_ welcome."

The friends, along with everyone in the small restaurant, enjoyed the music provided by the young entertainers. After enjoying a delicious dessert at intermission, Brennan excused herself from her partner and friends, and approached Lorelei discreetly as the woman worked at the end of the counter, re-shelving freshly-cleaned dishes and coffee cups. The anthropologist was curious about their hostess and wanted to learn a little more about the mission of the café.

"Excuse me, Lorelei?" Brennan waited patiently as the pleasant woman completed her task of piling a stack of sparkling white dishes on a built-in wall shelf behind the L-shaped counter.

"Yes ma'am? Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, we're have a wonderful evening, thank you. Booth and I are very happy that we came in today at lunch, and our friends are also enjoying themselves. I wondered if I could ask you a question about your musical program."

The middle-aged woman creased her forehead, curious of what the stranger _who seemed so strangely familiar_ would want to know. "Well, sure Miss, what can I help you with?"

"You mentioned at the beginning of the evening that all the donations collected from the coffee and desserts were passed on to the band. Is this how your bands are typically paid?"

There was nothing but open interest in her question and Lorelei did not hesitate to answer.

"Yes ma'am. Walt and I don't have the funds to pay the entertainment outright. Our mission here at the café is to allow the bands, or writers, or poets, a venue for exposure, in hopes that they become discovered or, at the very least, pick up a few additional paid gigs to help cover their bills. My husband's own musical career was cut short from illness, but we never lost that passion for local artists, regardless of medium or style. So, 14 years ago, after he completed a cooking course, we decided to open a place that would welcome everyone, giving them an outlet of sorts. So we pass on whatever is collected from coffee, desserts or snacks; sometimes when people come for just the music, and not for dinner, they'll leave some money in the jar at the end of the counter – that goes to them, too." She smiled proudly, hoping the stranger understood what she was trying to explain.

It was obvious to Lorelei that her guest was not accustomed to frequenting coffeehouses like this; she had seen the wonder and amusement on the woman's face when she and her friends first entered the crowded dining room. The ruggedly handsome man she was with, however, looked right at home in this kind of environment, like he'd had a completely different type of upbringing. But throughout the evening, as Lorelei stole glances at the newcomers, trying to figure out why she felt as though she knew the woman standing before her, the restaurateur had noticed how her guest became more and more relaxed in her movements and reactions.

Brennan smiled at the efforts of the generous woman and made an instant decision. "I'd like to make an additional donation, Lorelei."

"That's very considerate of you ma'am, but I saw that you and your friends all made a contribution to the jar when you got coffee, please don't feel obligated to put more in there. Honestly, whatever you've already given will be greatly appreciated."

"I'm sure it will be. Nevertheless, I'd like to write you a check. Feel free to do with it as you wish – share it with_ Polyphony,_ or save it for when you're having a slow night and need a little something to pay the band. Your mission is commendable and I admire your and your husband's dedication to local artists. How should I make the check payable?"

"Well, that is very kind of you, Miss. If you truly feel compelled to do so, please make it payable to Lorelei's. I will deposit it to the café's account and in turn, pay the band with a check."

Brennan smiled at the commendable woman, "Thank you Lorelei. I'll be back in a few moments." She returned to her seat, rejoining her friends, and leaned towards Booth. "Do you still have one of my checks in your wallet, Booth?"

Reaching into his pocket, Booth extracted his wallet and handed Brennan one of the checks that he carried with him. For a long time, even before they were a couple, Booth had carried a few of his partner's checks in his billfold, for just such occasions that she didn't carry her purse but wanted to make a purchase that he couldn't cover with his own card. "Whatcha plannin', Bones?" He asked, almost knowing her intentions before she spoke them, but wanting to know if his gut was right.

"I'm going to make a donation to the café." She went on to explain to her partner how the owners did business and how the musicians and artists may _or may not_ benefit from spending an evening performing at the venue. When she saw that Angela was interested in the retelling of Lorelei's story, she further explained that sometimes they have writers or poets performing as well.

Brennan saw Angela reach down and grab her purse, pulling out a check of her own after passing the information on to her husband as well, as he was slightly out of hearing range of Brennan's voice. He smiled in agreement and said that he would put some extra cash into the jar, to meet the evening's immediate need, if Angie wanted to make the check out for possible future endeavors of the Café. Neither Hodgins nor Brennan liked to flaunt their wealth, but when a cause spoke to both of them as worthy, they didn't hesitate to open their metaphorical pockets to support said-causes.

As Booth watched his fiancée and her friend in a mirror image of each other, making out checks on their laps, he felt a little choked. His partner, the big-hearted and often misunderstood love-of-his-life, was the most giving person he'd ever known. She didn't put on airs; she didn't pretend to be better than other people…Temperance Brennan simply _was_. She existed in the here-and-now and when something spoke to her, she acted upon it without hesitation.

Much to Angela's credit, she, too, eagerly supported the arts, and Booth totally understood her stance – after all, she was an artist and understood the plights of a creative-mind trying to survive on talent alone. Had Brennan not hired her into the Jeffersonian team, Booth wondered where Angela would be at that moment. He shuddered to think of trying to solve some of their past cases if they had _not_ had a forensic artist of Angela's caliber on their team.

The house lights dimmed, indicating the start of the band's second set and Brennan handed Booth back his pen before turning to Angela. "Shall we take these to her now? In case she gets too busy after the show?"

"Yeah, we should," Angela replied, tucking her check into an envelope she pulled from her bag. "Do you want to put yours in here, too?" She accepted Brennan's check without looking at the amount she'd written and slid it into place with hers before sealing the flap.

Before the ladies went over to the counter, Hodgins pulled out his wallet and handed several folded bills to his wife. "Put these in the jar for tonight's contribution, Babe," he smiled modestly as Angela leaned into his side and planted a firm kiss on his cheek. Jack Hodgins was a generous man when it came to causes he or his beloved artist supported, and a local café like Lorelei's was definitely the kind of place they loved to see flourish.

The friends would not have the pleasure of seeing the astonished looks on the band members' faces after breaking from their final set, when Lorelei proudly handed them a generous fistful of cash, which contained several crisp One-Hundred-Dollar bills.

Nor would the donors be present when Lorelei and Walt unsealed the envelope that had been slipped to the owner just after the close of intermission, causing the middle-aged couple actually sit down in awed silence, fighting tears of gratitude and humility at the generosity of the gift bestowed upon them.

And finally, the world-renowned author would not see the sudden rush of excited emotion when Lorelei recognized the name on the upper left of the check.

"Oh my God," the woman exclaimed as she hurried over to the small table that was in front of the seats where her famous guest had been sitting. She looked on the table and saw the tattered, well-read copy of "Bred In Bone" sitting atop the age-old pressed-wood surface. Picking up the copy, she turned to Walt, holding up the book. "It was **Temperance Brennan,** Walt… _That's_ why she looked so familiar!" She looked down at one of her favorite books as she held it in her hand, letting the cover fall open to the title page, where she saw an inscription that was not there previously.

_To Lorelei and Walt, _

_Your support of local arts and creative minds is commendable. Thank you for all that you're doing to encourage the growth and promotion of these accomplished and aspiring artists. I wish you continued success in your endeavors and I wish all the best for __**Lorelei's **__to enjoy a successful and prosperous future. _

_Fondly, _

_Dr. Temperance Brennan _

As the woman's eyes travelled down the page, she noticed an additional dedication scrawled in obviously male penmanship, nearer to the bottom, and she smiled.

_All the Best to a great couple who serve some of the best comfort-food I've ever tasted. _

_Kind Regards, _

_SA S.J. Booth, FBI, aka 'The __**real **__Andy Lister'_

Then, one final note, once again written in Brennan's elegant handwriting, caused Lorelei to chuckle as she read the series of dedications aloud to her husband.

_Please note that Andy Lister is a __**fictional **__character and bears no intended resemblance to my professional and life partner, Special Agent S.J. Booth, regardless of what he claims. _

_~TB_

**B/B/B/B**

Booth turned to face his fiancée after locking their door and watched as she sat on the edge of the corner chair and reached down to unzip her dark, knee-high boots. "That was really generous, what you and Angela did for _Lorelei's _tonight, Bones." He smiled and removed his leather jacket as he crossed the room in her direction, tossing his jacket across the back of the same chair.

"I like to see privately-owned businesses like _Lorelei's_ thriving. She and her husband work hard to make that place a welcoming environment for everybody and that can't be an easy task. She mentioned something about her husband's musical career being short-lived due to health reasons, and that's why they are so supportive of local musicians." Brennan smiled as she watched her boyfriend's movements as he walked around the spacious bedroom.

He unceremoniously kicked off his shoes, not totally ignorant of the juxtaposition between his carefree way of tossing his shoes beside his night stand haphazardly and the careful precision his partner displayed in lining up her boots in a perfect row alongside her daytime footwear and her sneakers near the seat where she sat. He grinned and clicked on the radio before circling back around the foot of the bed to stand before his fiancée.

When she looked back up at her partner, he was silently extending his left hand in a motion that had become somewhat of a routine for them since they started sharing their living space. With a shy, but warm smile, Brennan slipped her much smaller hand into Booth's and let him pull her to her feet before he looped his other arm around her waist and started swaying to the music playing on the radio. "You wrote that I'm your life-partner, Bones, in that follow-up note in the book," he muttered against her temple, breathing in her scent. "It felt unbelievable to read that, Baby…"

She grinned and let her head fall to his shoulder with a gentle sigh as he pulled her close, and she inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of her lover and letting herself get metaphorically lost in the strong and possessive embrace that held her. She was going to tease him about the ongoing battle in regards to her character's resemblance _or non-resemblance_ to himself, but she felt too overwhelmed with emotions to joke. There was something oddly intimate and comforting that Brennan experienced whenever she danced with Booth in the privacy of his (_their?_) home, or in this case, their home-_away_-from-home. Regardless of the location, the quiet music, their sock-covered feet brushing softly against each other's, and the low, almost-inaudible humming emanating from Booth's chest filled the scientist with a sense of well-being and belonging. She tightened her arm even more, looping it from under his arm up to grasp his shoulder, a silent testament to how she felt about _her_ Special Agent, her life-partner.

Booth hummed in approval of her willingness to dance whenever he offered his open palm and he nuzzled into her sweet-smelling hair. "Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Baby?"

"Mm-hmm," she muttered, "it was very nice. Dinner was good, the music was _very_ good...and I'm glad that Angela, Jack and Mr. Abernathy seemed to like it as well."

Booth felt shivers run through his body as her warm breath skipped across his neck. Even after being together for months, he was still caught off-guard when a certain sound, or touch, or smell reached out to him from his partner. Seemingly unaware of the effect she had on Booth _simply by breathing_, Brennan raised her bright blue-gray eyes to meet his dark browns, and continued speaking. "But I wish we had gotten further along with the investigation today. I feel like nothing was accomplished."

He almost smiled at her near-pout and raised his eyes in thought, staring over the top of her head at nothing in particular. "Well," he began, and looked back down into her pools, "we got most of our interviews done… I've got Noggins pulling some info for us to use as follow-up in tomorrow morning's interviews… You guys managed to collect your evidence and have it transported back to the FBI lab… Not everything can happen all at once, Bones… you know that." He searched her eyes, wondering about the source of her impatience.

"Yes, but it just feels… I don't know… like I should have gotten more done…" She shrugged and then lowered her head once more so she could press against the side of his neck with her forehead.

Booth relished the feel of this woman wrapped in his arms and loved that she openly sought comfort from him when she felt inadequate or unsure of herself, though he believed that she deserved to feel neither.

"Well…. In addition to all that, you managed to successfully smack-down a local beat-cop, tell-off the FBI Head of Forensics while simultaneously insulting his investigative knowledge or lack-thereof, and terrify a Junior Agent who has unselfishly offered us his assistance… That's a pretty full day if you ask me, Bones." He flashed a toothy smile when she unlaced one of her arms from around him just long enough to jab him in the ribs before she re-hooked her wiry fingers around his shoulder.

"You had a pretty busy day, too, Booth… I saw the way you were pacing around the crime-scene like a caged lion, threatening anyone who got too close… Proudly displaying your _alpha-male_ traits for everyone to see… taking notes on your index cards while warning people to stay away from me…" She grinned when she looked up and saw his ears turn pink with only a slight-bit of embarrassment. "You didn't think I was listening to all your barking and growling, did you?"

He grinned knowingly. "You don't miss much, Bones… But _hell_," his voice deepened at the memory, "most of those guys were practically drooling the minute you climbed outta the SUV…."

She arched an eyebrow playfully, "Oh, and did you conveniently miss all the women swooning after you, _Special-Agent-Seeley-Booth-from-the-DC-Field-Offic e_?" Brennan mocked a high-pitched feminine voice and had to chuckle at his shocked look, but she cut off his impending rebuttal. "Nope, don't tell me they weren't swooning, Booth. I saw the looks… heard the whispers… And _Angela_ was even questioned more than once about you and your current _relationship status_." When it was Booth's turn to raise an eyebrow, she smirked. "Yup," she was proud to be telling him something he missed while he was frantically keeping the local men at bay. "She told me earlier tonight… She was approached by _three_ different women while she was at the coffee tent waiting for the rest of us. But her warnings were not news to me, because _**I**_ saw the looks since this morning when we first arrived…"

He gazed down at her almost-defiant look and saw a thin veil of jealous vulnerability flash behind her eyes. "Bones, I wasn't paying attention to any of those women…You should know that, Baby…"

"I know, Booth… But you know how you feel about those men? Well, I suspect it's not very unlike how I feel towards those women…"

They swayed to the music in silence for several moments, getting lost in each other's eyes before Booth broke the stillness. "I practically go crazy when I catch a man watching you in a certain way, Bones…or if a guy looks like he's about to hit on you…or reach out and touch you…or say something otherwise inappropriate…" He shook his head at his visions.

Brennan watched Booth's eyes darken at the memories of the men he'd intimidated throughout the day, and she felt his hands spread wide across her back, flexing against the softness of her sweater. "You get jealous…" Her statement was quiet and direct, but not at all accusatory.

"I try not to, Bones. Dammit, I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid, Booth." She cut off any possible self-flagellation from her partner. "It's natural." She swallowed visibly and tilted her head to the side as she looked up at the man she loved. "I feel it, too," she confessed softly, "whenever I notice that a woman is interested in you... I know I don't have to worry, you've proven that to me, but it still makes me feel uncomfortable…"

Booth slowed their dance to a mere sway and then craned his head, capturing her lips in a tender kiss full of promise. When he pulled back, he looked deep into his partner's eyes. "You're right, you don't ever have to worry, Bones. I didn't even _see_ women at the site today…" His eyes skipped across her pale features. "All I could see were the men trying to catch your attention…trying to get closer to you…"

She felt Booth's hold on her body tighten, his possessiveness apparent, and she felt a satisfaction that she could not explain. Throughout her adult life, Brennan had fought to be independent, argued against the 'ownership' of monogamy, and turned her back on the superficial notion of love. But as she stood encircled by her partner's strong embrace, she felt a familiar giddiness wash over her body. She had grown to love the man dancing with her; she treasured the feeling of his over-protective nature, even though she fought him on it in public. She adored the tenderness he displayed while still challenging her when necessary. And, she had to admit to herself, despite the desire she had always experienced to take charge in the few failed 'relationships' in which she'd been involved, she found that she quite enjoyed the power that Booth had over her, both physically and emotionally. "I like that," she spoke her thoughts aloud before she realized she'd said it.

He narrowed his eyes, thinking she was responding to his conversation and curious of why she would like other men trying to get close to her. "You like _what_, Bones?" His voice was cautious and deep, but he didn't loosen his hold on her torso.

Realizing she had just slipped, she knew there was no retracting her words, because she wouldn't lie to the man who had given her so much. Feeling her cheeks fill with the heat of embarrassment, she hesitated only a moment. "When you…" she sucked on her lower lip as she gathered her thoughts. "When there are men around... you grow protective." She shrugged one shoulder just a little and let her arms drop back down to his waist where she gripped the edge of his t-shirt. "I may argue with you about your alpha-displays and bullish tendencies, but I actually like it when you protect me like that… Even if I'm in no real _danger_, it makes me feel… not only safe, but loved on a deeper level than I ever imagined possible…. If that makes any sense."

Booth felt one side of his lips curl into a crooked grin at his girl's almost-reluctant confession. Seeing the smug satisfaction growing on her partner's face, Brennan grew stern and gave him a hard look.

"_Sometimes_, Booth. _Sometimes_ I like it…. Don't let it go to your head. And _don't_ think that I'm going to let you get away with going Neanderthal on anyone that you view as a possible threat. I'm still _perfectly_ capable of taking care of myself…" She stuck out her chin defiantly as she watched Booth's eyes come alive with a familiar cockiness and his smile grew wide. Turning to look away, she mumbled under her breath, "I never should've said anything," but Booth heard her perfectly clear.

Years ago, he had become fluent in understanding Temperance-Brennan-Grumbles. Stifling a chuckle, Booth reached up and cupped her angular jawline, turning her to face him once again. He cradled her face, both his hands holding her carefully as he lowered his lips once more. "I promise to behave, Bones…_sometimes_…" He covered her mouth with his and slid his tongue along the tight line where her lips met, to which she immediately responded by opening to him. Booth swallowed her moan and deepened their kiss as he slid his hands from the soft skin of her face, down her neck and over her shoulders until he completely embraced her once again, his hands meeting on the straight line of her back as she pressed against him.

The electricity that sparked between the partners never failed to amaze Booth and when they broke for a much-needed breath, he smiled. "You look really pretty tonight, Bones." He ran his hands over her back, feeling that soft material of her sweater beneath his calloused hands. "I like this color; it looks really good on you."

She smiled proudly and spoke softly. "I know you do, Booth…That's why I bought it. I like to please you…I enjoy wearing things that I know you will like….I want to keep you happy…"

Booth felt himself harden at her admittance and it took a great deal of control to not take her right then and there, showing her just how much he liked the way she looked.

He wanted to tell her that he liked looking at her no matter what she wore.

He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to do anything special to please him, because he was already pleased.

He wanted to tell her that he knew he'd be happy with her for the rest of his life.

Instead of telling her any of these things, however, he crashed against her mouth again, feeling his uncontrollable need swell at the combination of her earlier confession indirectly praising his dominance and this revelation that she took special care to ensure her appearance was pleasing to him.

Brennan knew she had just fed into Booth's ego and she sighed in appreciation of his sexual aggression. She could tell he was holding back, though, and she didn't want that; she wanted the power, the unleashed intensity that she knew lived just below the surface of Booth's self-control. She pressed her body into his, crushing her breasts to his chest and grinding her pelvis as she felt his growing erection straining against her abdomen. Breaking their kiss, the anthropologist let her head fall back, bearing her throat to Booth, just as she knew drove him wild.

She wasn't disappointed. Booth attacked her neck with heated fury, covering her with open-mouthed kisses as he nipped playfully at her soft flesh. He fisted the hem of the sweater and rolled his hands beneath the soft, pliable material, opening his palms against equally-silky skin and pulling her further into him. When he heard the deep, throaty moan that escaped his girlfriend's throat, he set his sights on causing her to make that sound again…and again...and again...

Without breaking their kiss, he walked them over towards the bed and when he reached their destination, Booth sat down on the edge, palming Brennan's hips and bringing her to stand directly in front of him, between his parted knees. The agent slid his hands from her hips around to her perfectly shaped ass and pulled her close, burying his nose into the soft angora material of her sweater. "I like these pants, Bones," he growled as he ran his fingers over the material that was practically a second layer of skin, they were so tight. "They hug your curves perfectly, but length of your sweater hid _that _from other peoples' view…" He hummed approval at her choice of clothing and ran his hands back around to the front and thumbed open the button and zipper.

Slipping his rough fingertips beneath the waistband, he slowly peeled the leggings down until she could step out of them, holding onto his shoulders for stability. Running his hands slowly up her outer thighs until he reached her hips, Booth raised his eyes and locked on the bright blues looking down at him.

"You're beautiful, Bones," his voice was husky with barely-controlled desire combined with unadulterated adoration as he palmed her body and continued to meet her gaze. "You're the most amazing woman I've ever laid eyes on, Baby…"

Snagging her opportunity to entice him further, she curled her lips into the lopsided grin that she only ever showed him. "Well, Booth, how about laying your eyes on more of me?" she questioned in the sultry alto voice that she knew turned him on.

With a deep growl, Booth ran his hands up her body, pushing the sweater up her torso and exposing her creamy skin to his darkened eyes. "Take it off, Bones," his order was gentle but his desire crystal clear, so she happily obliged his request, pulling the shirt over her head. Booth watched her movements from his spot at the edge of the bed, his hands flexing wide on her hips and teasing at the thin hip straps of her G-string. He felt the taut coil in his gut grow even tighter as she then pulled the ponytail elastic from her hair, letting her silky chestnut waves fall loosely over her pale shoulders.

Brennan shivered when she lowered her heated gaze and met his ebony eyes with fiery bright blues, full of want. She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as the pads of his fingers pressed into her flesh firmly.

"Fucking gorgeous, Bones…_amazing_…" Booth mumbled his praise as he brought his lips to her tummy and pressed a series of kisses across her naked skin, looping his arms around her upper thighs and pulling her closer until her knees bumped up against the bed.

Brennan hummed at the pleasure her partner was bringing to her with only his mouth. She threaded her fingers into his messy spikes and continued to encourage him by making the tiny kittenish sounds that he liked. She knew exactly how to get her partner worked up and there were nights, much like tonight, when she wanted the Possessive-Booth to take control and she wouldn't be disappointed. Her body shuddered as Booth's tongue traced the waistband on her barely-there panties and when she raised her arms around to her back, intent on unfastening her bra, his hands darted out gently grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands down to her sides.

"Leave it alone, Bones," he muttered against her tummy as he aimed to move his mouth over towards her hip. "That color…" he nibbled at her hip, "...against your pale skin…" he licked to sooth the gentle bites, "...Goddamn perfection, Temperance…"

Brennan smiled breathlessly at the sound of her given name on his lips and moved her hands to her partner's broad shoulders, feeling his muscles play beneath the perfectly worn material of the vintage concert T-shirt he wore. She ran her skilled hands along the shoulder seams until they met his collar and she swept the pads of her fingers beneath the soft material to feel the masculine skin of which she could never seem to get enough.

"Booth," she whispered huskily to her partner, "let me take this off you," she implored with a soft mewl. Brennan felt her knees quivering in reaction to the erotic tickling motions his tongue was doing against her torso. "Let me feel you, Booth…" She started to tug on his shirt and he gave no resistance to her actions, breaking his contact with her skin only long enough to hastily rip the shirt over his head before he returned to the assault his lips were conducting against her body.

He growled when he inhaled her heady scent and pressed his fingers tighter into the flesh of her hips. With the knowledge that he was close to uncoiling, Brennan pumped his ego a little further, anticipating how he would react.

"There _were_ a lot of men at the site today, Booth...but you made sure no one bothered me…"

He ran his hand beneath the thin elastic straps hugging her hips and raised his mouth higher, so he could suck at the under-swells of her full breasts.

"I think that KDP Officer expected you to back down when he approached me… But you didn't…I was quite pleased to see the way you..."

Before she knew what was happening, Brennan found herself spun around, sprawled out on her back, sideways across the bed, her words cut off completely. The momentum Booth used when he twisted her body caused her arms to land slightly outstretched, on either side of her head, and she was suddenly looking up into his possessive brown eyes as he loomed above her.

"That guy is a prick, Bones…. If you hadn't given him the verbal smack-down, I think I may have given him a physical one… I don't want you thinking about him. _Ever_." He lowered his mouth to her neck while he trapped her hands with his own, keeping them in place where they landed.

"Booth, it's impossible to stop myself from thinking of something…" Her knowing dissertation was cut off by his lips covering hers.

After he broke to breathe, he pinned her with a predatory look. "You always gotta go on and on with that smart mouth, don'tcha, Bones? Huh? Always gotta lecture me about your fuckin' brain working overtime…"

He didn't give her a chance to respond or rebut. He kissed her again, more aggressively than before and thrust his thigh between hers as he began crawling up to cover her mostly naked body with his. When his denim-covered knee pressed against her core, he growled into her mouth because she immediately started grinding herself against him, desperate for relief.

"Booth..." she breathed against his lips when he broke their kiss, their mouths were still nipping and nudging one another. "Please…" She arched her back so her lace-covered bra rubbed against his bare chest; the pressure she felt caused her nipples to harden to diamond-like points as she tried to create as much friction as possible.

"You're mine, Bones…" he murmured against her suprasternal notch, completely missing the satisfied grin that was threatening to spread across his lover's lips. "I don't back down from anyone when it comes to you…" He nipped lightly, careful not to make a mark, and licked her with the flat of his tongue. "Mine…" His fingers threaded between hers where he held her pinned to the plush comforter and he began moving his mouth lower, towards her eagerly-awaiting breasts.

When he nuzzled in the valley of her soft mounds, she couldn't stop the soft mew from escaping her throat. "Take it off, Booth…" she implored, wanting his mouth on her skin, and especially her nipples, directly.

"No," his deep voice was gravelly and thick with barely-contained self-control. "You wore this for _me_, Bones…" He dragged the straight edge of his teeth along the scalloped edge of the demi cups. "Now I get to enjoy seeing you in it…" He raised his eyes and looked up at her, noticing the pretty pink flush that had crept up her chest to her neck and cheeks. "You _like _wearing things like this underneath your modest, professional clothes, don't you? You _like _the power you have over me, knowing that I'm walking around sportin' blue balls and half-a hard-on just thinking about the skimpy little numbers you've got under your outfits…" He shifted his thigh, pushing hers further apart and effectively repositioning himself so he was nestled completely between her parted legs. His body molded itself to hers in a way that was wonderfully familiar to them both and Booth rocked his hips, feeling her heat through the layers of jeans and briefs that he wore.

"I…" Brennan tried to respond to him breathlessly. "Yes… I like wearing things I know you'll enjoy seeing me in after we get home… but I don't intend to leave you uncomfortable…"

"Bullshit," he mumbled against the soft skin just above her bellybutton. "You like the power." He grinned as he rebutted her claim of innocence; he knew his partner too well to buy that act.

With a throaty chuckle, she responded, knowing that he wouldn't let her get away with it. "Ok, maybe a little bit…" She arched off the bed when, at her confession, he moved his wide hands to her hips and traced the thin straps down to the tiny triangle of satin that covered her throbbing heat.

"See? Being honest about your ulterior motives isn't too hard, is it, Baby?" It was more of a teasing statement than it was a question, and he slid one finger beneath the flimsy material and stroked against the soft skin that the turquoise panties covered. When he felt the wet heat waiting for him, he tensed his jaw with determination. He wanted to make her pant for him; he wanted her to beg him for release. It wasn't every time they made love that he felt this kind of overwhelming possessiveness take over his mental state, but she had gotten him riled up with her teasing and her mouthy comments about other men paying attention to her. He knew that _she knew_ what she was in for, and the fact that she permitted him to have that kind of control over her made his dick that much harder.

"I never did that for other men, Booth… I never dressed sexy _beneath _my clothes for anyone…"

Booth knew he should have felt a flood of blinding jealousy that she would refer to what she did or didn't do for other lovers while he was so close to lowering his mouth to her, but he didn't. Instead, he felt an overwhelming desire and love fill his chest. Her confession was pure and honest, and the agent thought he detected just the slightest twinge of insecurity in her breathy, alto voice. Rather than reprimand her for discussing her past habits, he pulled himself up the length of her body in the blink of an eye, so he was nose to nose with her.

"I love that you do it for me, Bones. You have no idea how lucky I feel that you do things for me that you've never done before. It makes me love you even more, Baby…" He lowered his mouth to hers in an immediate deep kiss as his fingers finished their preliminary exploration beneath the barely-there panties and slipped into the heat that he knew so well. He swallowed her moan and pushed two thick fingers into her tightness, rolling his thumb over her tiny erected clit as it begged for attention.

The sentimental warmth that he'd felt just moments before at hearing her admission started to dissipate as thoughts of the locals paying special attention to his partner resurfaced. He began to feel the coils of possessiveness gripping his body with tension. He slid his mouth from hers and moved until his lips were just in front of her ear. "You're mine, Bones…." He grunted as he pumped into her with the controlled strength he knew she craved. "Tell me."

Gripping his shoulders, Brennan was surprised to find her body in a tailspin already. She tried to wrap her consciousness around the fact that her partner was able to bring her to the brink so quickly but she couldn't focus on anything other than his touch and the lust-filled gritty voice that was filling her ears.

"Yes…"

"Yes what, Baby?"

"Yes, I'm yours, Booth. Always yours. Have been yours since the beginning…"

Booth knew it was wrong for him to feel that way. He was acutely aware of the fact that every time he made her admit to the ownership he had over her, he was taking away a little bit of her independence. It was not his intention to take anything away or to degrade the woman he loved in any way. But at the same time, he was unable to control his baser instincts when she managed to get him so worked up. He rationalized his demands of her by allowing her to take control as often as she wanted. However, the agent had noticed that his genius partner and fiancée often seemed to prefer his dominance over her own, and he was happy to oblige, though he continually worked to keep his control in check, ensuring that Brennan was never uncomfortable, never hurt and _never_ left unsatisfied.

He growled a primal, chesty groan and shifted his hand slightly, so his thick fingers could tickle her magic g-spot, knowing he would bring her to an immediate release. Never in his adult life had he encountered a woman more responsive to his actions as Brennan was. That's not saying he ever left any of his past girlfriends wanting more by the time he was done pleasuring them, but when he and Brennan first came together, and every subsequent time since, he was always amazed that she was so receptive to his ministrations and techniques. In his heart, he knew that was the proof that they were meant for each other. Their bodies were uncannily in tune with each other's, they were able to complete the other's thoughts and sentences, and they were fiercely protective over one another.

Those protective tendencies they both possessed were the vibes that outsiders sensed when meeting the partners for the first time, and for the most part, people got the hint to back off. For years, strangers as well as some colleagues assumed that they were a couple, regardless of the continued claims that they were 'just partners', and Booth knew that was because of their devotion to each other. Only on occasion, like that afternoon as he fended off what felt like the entire state of Tennessee, though in actuality it was really only a few single guys in the law enforcement field, had guys not taken the subtle hints and clues. But Booth knew that after his phone conference with Cullen in the morning, the whole charade they were putting on was going to end. He had tried to get hold of Cullen that afternoon, while Brennan and the mini-squint-squad worked, but his boss's assistant had to block out time in the Director's hectic schedule for the following morning for Booth to call in.

Focusing all his attention on his girlfriend, Booth watched in silent appreciation as the pale-skinned goddess sprawled out beneath him entered the early pleasurable throes of her first orgasm of the night. Her neck was arched so her head was pressed hard into the plush comforter below; her hands remained where he'd placed them, though her thin hands formed tight little fists as her muscles began to contract; her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth gaping open ever so slightly as she gasped in between pants in sync with the rhythm he'd set with his fingers.

He let his eyes wander down her body, to where the snug teal material of her bra hugged her heavy breasts. He could see the firm peaks trying to break free from their confines as the short demi-cup rode lower with each movement. The thin lace did little to hide his prizes and he couldn't stop himself from lowering his mouth and covering each on in turn, sending her on the final catapult over the edge as she pressed her pelvis harder against his hand and met his motions with mirroring ones of her own.

Using his teeth to lower on side of her bra, he bit the upper swell tenderly then suckled to smooth any possible sting. "Mine," he muttered against her skin and his declaration was met with the kittenish purr that he loved.

Once she had ridden out the waves of her release, he withdrew his fingers slowly, teasing her as he moved. Something that he admired about his lover was her ability to recover quickly after her initial orgasm whenever they made love. He had been with many women who, once they came, had to wait for several minutes before they would consent to further touches or caresses. Brennan, from the very first time, had amazed him with her willingness to let him continue his exploration of her body, regardless of how soon following her climax. Bringing his fingers to his lips once she'd opened her bright blues he took his time cleaning her fluids from his hand, never breaking the eye contact they'd established.

When he was satisfied that he had captured everything from his thick, calloused fingers, he braced his arms just above her shoulders and rubbed his nose against hers lovingly. "You get more and more beautiful, Bones, every time I watch you. You're gorgeous." He pressed a kiss to her lips and pushed his tongue into her welcoming warmth, swallowing a satisfied moan that escaped her throat.

Feeling the bulk of what she knew was a raging hard-on pressing against her thigh, Brennan chased her partner's tongue back into his mouth with her own and broke the kiss by millimeters.

"Take me, Booth. I want you inside me now. We can go slower some other time. Right now, I just need you to take what's yours." She spoke against his firm, strong lips, knowingly submitting to him, because she knew he would take her fast and hard, and that's exactly what she wanted.

Months before, she had learned that, unlike other men, when she submitted to Booth's alpha nature, he did not take advantage of her. Quite the contrary, actually; Booth always made sure she was sexually gratified before he let himself explode, and because of that, she willingly and eagerly let him do as he pleased. On that same note, however, he had readily backed down on the many occasions when she was the aggressor. The give-and-take she and Booth shared was totally opposite from any other sexual relationship she'd been in.

"Please…" she quietly pleaded, though she knew she didn't have to.

Without a word, Booth pulled back and stood at the edge of the bed, shoving his jeans and briefs from his narrow hips and down his strong thighs. He watched her watching him and saw her eyes dilate further when his erection finally sprung free from its confines, making the normally bright blues darken to nearly lavender.

With nothing more than a primal grunt, he grabbed her hips and rolled her over, pulling her ass into the air as he climbed back into place between her yoga-toned thighs. Pushing the skinny thong strap to the side, Booth wasted no time brushing his fingers against her thoroughly wet core, gathering just enough cream to spread over his throbbing head before he speared into her silky heat. The sudden penetration forced a tiny yip from Brennan's throat and she pushed her ass back, meeting his thrust unreservedly.

Booth bent his body over hers, covering her back with the expanse of his muscular chest and abdomen. He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her in place as he rocked his hips forward and back, filling her completely each time. His other arm snaked higher up her body and his fingers weaseled their way beneath the snug fabric of her bra, pushing the flimsy material down so he could play with her pretty peaked nipples, one at a time.

He pressed his lips against the back of her neck, where her long hair had parted and fallen into a curtain around her face. After peppering an unnumbered amount of kisses, his tongue darted out and began licking the delicate skin at the top of her spine. He increased the speed and pressure of his thrusts when her breathy moans grew in earnest and she started rocking back against him harder.

"You want it hard, Bones? ... Huh?" He nipped the skin beneath his mouth as he waited for her admission. "You wanna be _fucked_, Baby?"

"Yeah," she breathed out quickly, "harder, Booth…" She pushed up with her arms so she was upright on all fours as he pounded into her and she rocked back against his erection, feeling it spread her wide with its large girth.

"Nuh-uh," he grunted as he pushed her shoulders back down to the bed, leaving her ass-up with her right cheek pressed to the mattress and her arms spread and looped beneath the halo of chestnut hair that fanned out when he pushed her down. "I want this angle, Bones… Just…like…this…" He thrust into her with each word, as if punctuating his point, and that point was met with approving moans from deep within Brennan's chest. He continued his manipulation of her tits as they bounced in time with his driving rhythm, the cups of her bra now completely pulled down beneath each soft mound, keeping them at the perfect position for his wide hand to cover and squeeze and pinch. He continued in this position for several minutes, enjoying the way her sweet sheath milked his cock with every pull from her warmth before pounding into her again.

Wanting more leverage, he reluctantly released her perfectly shaped breasts and brought both his hands to her hips, pressing the pads of his fingers into the fleshy curves he loved so much. Watching where they were joined as he continued to drive into her, and listening to her breathy pleas and praises, he felt himself growing even harder, pressing against her cervix with every stab. He felt her pussy starting to grow tighter, if that was even possible, but he recognized that as a telltale warning that she was close to shattering again. He brought the thumb of his right hand around from her hip and pressed it against the lacy thong strap that lay snugged in the perfect crack of her heart-shaped ass, giving just enough pressure against the tight ring of her anus that she immediately shattered, screaming his name into the bed below, trying to muffle the very _un_-Brennan-like squeal, and hoping to not wake up the entire household.

"Yeah," his deep baritone timbre filled the room, "just like that, Bones." He pounded three, four, five more times before the tight coil beneath his bellybutton sprang loose, sending him sailing over the edge with her. Booth wrapped both arms around her waist and pressed his chest to her back again as he emptied himself into her warmth in white hot spurts.

After several blinding moments, Booth opened his eyes and turned his head so he could plant a tender kiss to the middle of Brennan's sweat-slicked back. Loosening his vice-like hold on her waist, he started to pull back, withdrawing his now-flaccid dick from what they'd playfully come to term 'The Happy Place.'

With an exhaustedly satisfied groan, the anthropologist fell to her side as her partner fell to his opposite side, so they were facing each other. Matching smiles and heavy-lidded eyes stared at one another for several minutes before Booth reached up and cupped his lover's angular jaw tenderly.

"Was that what you were hoping for, Baby?" Booth grinned, knowing that she had purposely gotten him riled up – from the moment she slipped into the skimpy lingerie that matched the sweater she knew he would like, all the way to the moment when she demanded to be 'taken' hard, and in between, through all the reminders of the men paying attention to her that day.

With a lazy chuckle, Brennan pushed herself up to one arm and leaned forward to kiss her mate. "I don't hear you complaining, Agent Booth… I'd say you were hoping for that, as well." She grinned against his masculine lips as he returned her kiss and finally fell against his chest completely, letting him engulf her in his strong, safe embrace.

"Heh… I never complain, Bones… I'm always hoping for it, any way I can get it," he laughed when she pinched his stomach playfully and started to move slightly, so they could situate themselves the right way on the bed so they could go to sleep, but he groaned with disapproval when she dislodged herself from his arms.

"I'll be right back, Booth, I have to go to the bathroom…" she sat up slowly, stretching with the grace of a cat just waking from a satisfying nap. "After all, you attacked me before I had a chance to get ready for bed…"

"Wha-? _ I_ did _not_ attack you! _You_ attacked _me_! All I did was ask you to dance… One harmless little dance… and look what you made me do…" He shuffled to pull the blankets down without actually moving, which proved to be nearly impossible, so he threw his feet to the floor and stood up carefully stretching his back that he knew he'd feel in the morning, but telling himself it was totally worth it. Booth worked out regularly to keep fit, but the combination of the cold temperatures, his hopelessly damaged vertebrae and the sheer fact that he was in his early 40's all played a part in the everlasting battle he had waged against the pains he felt in his back. But he knew he wouldn't trade in his lifestyle for anything – especially the lifestyle that revolved around making amazing love to his partner.

The deep alto chuckle that he learned to love eight years prior carried through the room as she disappeared into the bathroom. "Yeah, I attacked you, Booth…. that's _exactly_ what happened…" She didn't see the adoring smile he was wearing as she sauntered away from him and closed the restroom door, but she knew he was watching her.

Temperance Brennan always knew when Seeley Booth was watching.

**Postscript A/N**

**Well, you asked for more smut, so I gave you more smut. I hope it met your smutty expectations! **

**PLEASE let me know your thoughts by sharing a review with me! Remember if you ask a specific question that you want a response to, be sure to sign in so I can reply, and make sure your PMs are not blocked. **

**Thanks for your continued interest in **_**Death, Plus One**_**! **

**Peace, my friends, **

**~jazzy**


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